Boats in the Sky
by WaveGoodbye
Summary: The lines couldn't blur with Rachel. They hadn't. Quinn would close her eyes and think that it was just like the times she was on vacation and see the boats so far in the distance that they looked like they were in the sky.
1. one

**Disclaimer: **Unfortunately the characters do not belong to me, I'm just borrowing them for fun.  
**Authors Note:** This is just my imagining of Faberry in college without a certain person around to control and poison those around him.

* * *

Quinn Fabray and Rachel Berry were nestled in a corner of a coffee shop, meeting up for the first time since graduation. Conversation flowed faster than Rachel's coffee and, to her delight, Quinn had been the main culprit of gasped interruptions and animated stories. Quinn seemed different to Rachel. Relaxed. Free. Everything she hadn't been for the majority of high school.

Had it really been six months since they'd last seen each other?

Due to her body language and the way she carried herself with such confidence, Quinn looked several years older than she was. She looked like a woman. Rachel had to smile when she noticed that. After everything that had happened between them, she was proud of Quinn, of everything she was accomplishing at Yale.

Their bi-weekly phone-calls made sure that each other's voice was always fresh in their minds, but after a while, looking at this new grown up Quinn while she spoke was as disconcerting to Rachel as it was thrilling.

It had been too long since they'd last seen each other if Quinn had changed that much. They couldn't let it happen again. Not now that they were getting along so well in person too.

Quinn was in her element, even if she wouldn't admit it openly. People had been drawn to her since the end of her Lucy days so she had no concerns over being a loner in college, but she actually had people she trusted in her life now without all that baggage from high school. She was at one of the best schools in the country—enjoying it, no less. She had friends, she had freedom, and she had Rachel. Rachel could see the progress she was making every day and never hesitated to tell Quinn how proud she was of her.

Someone who knew all of her flaws and still didn't hesitate to express their pride of the person she was becoming made Quinn feel a foot taller every time she heard it.

Rachel nodded in commiseration at Quinn's story of the time she was given negative feedback for an audition she'd been perfect for, all because one of the other girls were giving the writer late-night favours. She hadn't seen it with her own eyes of course, but the source was apparently well-respected and Quinn hadn't matured that much yet. It made her feel better, more secure in her own talent.

Quinn's story stopped abruptly, eyes fixed on Rachel.

"Okay, when did that happen and when were you going to tell me?"

Rachel's leg crossed over the other. "What?"

"You."

"Well," Rachel said, "Nineteen years ago—"

"I take it back," Quinn laughed. "You haven't changed."

"No," Rachel agreed. "It's unlikely that I ever will. But you... you've changed, Quinn. You look so liberated. So much older," she shrugged. "I like you best like this."

"Old?"

"No," she stressed with a nudge. "Happy."

Quinn studied Rachel. "You grew up, too."

Rachel scrunched her face and settled against Quinn's side on the plush leather sofa they'd been hogging for the past several hours. "When did that happen?"

"Maybe the same weekend I got old."

"I thought I'd let you know that, um, they say that the best kinds of friends are the ones who evolve with or because of each other."

"Who says that?"

"Me." Quinn's smile was lazy and Rachel found herself asking, "Is there anything specific you want to do this weekend?" They'd been drinking coffee for hours. As good as it was, Rachel's hands were beginning to shake from the caffeine and she'd been too caught up in stories to even think about decaf.

"Two things," Quinn declared very seriously.

"I'm shaking with anticipation."

They both laughed when Quinn looked down to see Rachel's fingers trembling because of too much coffee.

"I better be quick? Okay. The first thing; scream at me in the street. It's part of a dramatic script I'm learning and I can't get this one scene down. I've run lines with some girls in class but I can't get past wanting to punch them —Kirsty and Genevieve, remind me to update you before I leave, and my roommate is worse than Puck at Mattressland. SoI figured, buy coffee for the best performer I know and say 'please'..."

"You haven't said it yet."

"Please."

Rachel smiled. "What's the second thing?"

A bottle of wine and karaoke at her apartment wasn't exactly a new weekend tradition for Rachel because her fathers restocked her (small) wine rack every time they visited, but she couldn't remember the last time she'd had so much fun. She only wished they'd filmed the reaction they got from the crowd when they were screaming at each other in the street, and Quinn's face when she realised they'd also fooled a police officer into believing their fight was anything but scripted.

Quinn was golden. She could even do the single tear.

The weekend passed in a blur.

They had spent Saturday sight-seeing the real New York and Saturday night with Rachel's friends. Everyone was as nice as Rachel assured her they were and, as soon as he spotted her, Kurt talked Quinn's ear off just as Rachel suspected he would. When Blaine joined them it was like a mini New Directions reunion and Rachel pulled her camera out of her purse.

Quinn made sure to squeeze Kurt as tightly as his arms were squeezing her. When Quinn and Rachel returned to the apartment Rachel made a demand. A minute later, Quinn made one of her own.

Goodbye at Grand Central was a little like graduation all over again. The uncertainty of when Rachel would see her again. But they hadn't had that weekend then, or regular Skype meetings. They hadn't been close back then.

"I'm giving you two weeks," Quinn said, pulling her case closer until it bumped against her shoes.

"For what?"

"To find your way to New Haven."

Rachel smiled. "Okay."

"Thanks for having me," Quinn said, sounding so dorky that Rachel had to laugh.

"Of course." It was time to ask the question burning a hole through her tongue. "Okay, give me the cold, hard truth. How did you like the city?"

Quinn's inflection was coy. "It was okay."

Rachel stuffed her hands inside her coat pocket. "You know, besides my dads, you're the only person who's made it out here when they said they would," she said. "I know people get busy... but I'm glad you were the first."

"The city is amazing, Rachel. I had a great time."

"Me too."

The traffic had been worse than they'd anticipated that morning and the train arrived before they knew it. It wasn't the echoing announcement that gave Rachel a familiar edge to her behaviour, but the cacophony of the train coming to a stop. The one taking Quinn home.

She stepped forward and wrung her hands together. "So, be good," Rachel found herself saying. "A-and don't talk to anyone who looks homeless. Sometimes there's this guy who gets on at 125th wearing a blue jacket. You'll smell him before you see him. Just... politely cover the seat next to you with your coat and don't make eye-contact otherwise you'll be stuck talking to him."

"Now I'm scared."

"Besides his body odour, he's actually harmless. I just thought you should know."

"I'll keep a lookout," Quinn smiled. The way in which she wrapped her arms around Rachel wasn't quite like she'd done it a hundred times before, but it didn't have any ounce of hesitancy to it. Their embrace was warm and comfortable, just like it had been the first time at graduation and two days ago at the same station. "Two weeks, Rachel," she said when she stepped back.

Rachel's smile was watery and she cursed herself for it. "I'll be there."

Quinn received the e-mailed copy of the photograph taken in Rachel's apartment by the end of the day. It was printed and framed by the time she went to bed.

It took a month for their bi-weekly calls to turn into every other day and Quinn always had to smile when she walked past the first photograph they'd taken in the city. God, she had been so drunk that night and it was never difficult to tell when photographic evidence was involved. Quinn never paid attention to the way her roommate would frown curiously whenever more pictures were added to frames, hung or placed wherever there was space.

Quinn would receive a phone call from her mother once a month.

Judy Fabray would call her daughter one Thursday each month and ask her questions like, "How are your classes?" "Are you learning anything?" and Quinn would think that no, she wasn't learning as much as she thought she would at Yale because it got harder to answer those impersonal questions every single time.

Judy would always ask if Quinn had found a church she liked yet.

When Quinn had first arrived in New Haven, she had looked, researched and attended several services. None had made her feel the way her church back in Lima had used to as she'd sit next to her father and smile, shaking her head at him whenever he would look her way and wink with that proud smile that lit up his entire face. Of course, that had been before everything went to hell, almost literally.

Quinn didn't think she would ever get that feeling back.

She still kept her cross. Kept safe in her jewellery box, Quinn she would touch it every Sunday morning but her relationship and attachment wasn't as strong as it once was. It hadn't been the same since before Beth. God helped her through a difficult time after that but there wasn't that blind faith she'd once had anymore.

Quinn's relationship with her mother had been forced for years before the pregnancy scandal. It was prim and proper and perfect, creating a thick atmosphere in the house that Judy and her father seemed to breeze through. Sure, they'd talk sometimes; about boys, make-up, clothes, how to cook a perfect roast chicken. But Quinn was never asked about her dreams. She was never asked important questions.

As soon as news of Russell's affair spread, Judy made an effort. Quinn couldn't imagine getting through Beth's birth without her mother there; concrete evidence that her body wasn't going to split in two, and an older, comforting presence that only a mother could provide.

It took two weeks for Judy's newfound warmth to revert back into a semi-functioning alcoholic who pulled off an impressive amount of pot-roasts without ever setting the house on fire.

College meant that Quinn didn't ever have to deal with that again. She didn't have to smile and agree to everything her mother said. She didn't have to bite her tongue every day anymore. Only once a month, when Judy would contact her.

The final question of the phone call would always be about Quinn's love life and the gentlemen that Judy could only imagine were studying beside Quinn day after day, desperate for her to notice them. It would also be the only time to guarantee a genuine, light laugh from Quinn.

Guys noticed Quinn from the first day. She had casual dates with gorgeous, smart men every now and again but none of them were the type to sit beside her and wait for her to notice them. They'd been the type to do anything to gain her attention. No sane man would wait around for Quinn Fabray's attention.

Train stations became familiar over the next few months. There were visits to New Haven and visits to New York every two weeks.

Quinn and Rachel visited each other so regularly now that sometimes Quinn made plans with Kurt and Blaine without needing to okay it with Rachel first. It was a surprise to Quinn that Rachel got along with her roommate so well because Jamie reminded her of Santana sometimes. Jamie wasn't on the same level as Santana, though. She knew how to be tactful.

Rachel knew where everything was in Quinn's apartment now —sometimes better than Quinn did, and Quinn always managed to make a meal out of whatever crap was hiding in Rachel's cupboards and fridge without asking where anything was kept. It was nice, to be that familiar with each other's homes.

They talked through where they drew influence and inspiration from in their performances, papers that refused to get out from their heads and on to the computer, bad television, rumours from back in Lima, old school friends, what they were going to buy with their first big pay-checks, or arguing over which one would apply to Breadsticks or Mattressland if they both failed their attempts at a career.

It was coincidence that they shared the same phone service provider but it was a blessing that there was no time difference between them, especially those times when they were dying to call.

Quinn was throwing crumpled balls of paper at Jamie, her roommate, sleeping on the living room floor with her boyfriend. She didn't stop until they both flinched awake.

"Paying half the rent means you have a bedroom. Use it." Quinn smiled. "Please."

"Paying half the rent means I can tell you to screw yourself," Jamie responded in a half-asleep whine, rolling on top of her boyfriend. "Make her go away," she said to him.

Connor opened his eyes and smiled. Quinn was cool. She knew how and when to act like a lady and when to relax and let go. He also thought her movie collection was better than his as long as he ignored all of the girly movies. And if there was one thing Connor was sure of, it was to not choose sides when it came to Jamie and Quinn. He'd done so once, during the first and only fight Jamie and Quinn had ever had —he didn't remember what it was about now— but the second he'd rushed to his girlfriend's defence, Jamie had turned on him and threw him out of her and Quinn's apartment. His calls went unanswered for days.

"We were studying," Connor explained.

Quinn's eyes trailed down his naked torso until they reached the blanket covering his hips. "I see that. I also heard, so, if it isn't too much trouble..."

"Let's go to bed," he whispered to Jamie. "You mind?" Connor motioned for Quinn to turn around while he stood up.

Jamie hooked her arms around Connor's neck when he lifted her into his arms. At least she'd thrown her clothes back on last night while Connor passed out almost right after their cuddle time. She wasn't shy to be naked but Quinn was and she was careful now. "It's eight in the morning, Quinn. Why can't you sleep like a normal person?"

"You're the bear," she retorted. When her cell-phone rang, it was a sign. "See? Everyone else is awake." Quinn answered it without looking at the caller ID. "Hello?"

"Quinn, is that you?" Rachel whispered.

"I— yeah," Quinn said, momentarily confused at hearing Rachel's voice so early and without warning. She generally stuck to text messages until eleven a.m. "Did you mean to call me?"

Rachel sighed in despair and Quinn heard a door click closed and then running water. "Thank God. I need your help. I've done something so, so stupid and I can't call Kurt for advice because he's such a blabbermouth and I would hate for this to—"

Quinn sounded amused. "Did you murder someone, Rachel?"

Jamie's leg hooked around the doorframe. "Wait," she murmured to Connor. "I want to listen."

"I wish," Rachel said. "No, this is worse. Much worse. I can't... I was so drunk and he — God, Quinn, he was saying things that sounded so perfect at the time, but now I realise how gross and creepy they were."

"Who are y—" Quinn's jaw practically unhinged. "You had a one-night stand?"

Jamie covered her mouth in a desperate effort to keep quiet. It muffled an outraged squeak. Connor leaned in close. "Aren't they together?"

"Yes!" she mouthed. Her face contorted with self-doubt a second later. "I think?" Jamie gripped his shoulder tighter and pointed over it. "The pictures? Lesbian! Right?"

Connor shrugged.

Quinn's laugh managed to make Rachel smile even if she did pout afterward.

"What has that city done to you? Who was it?" Quinn pried. Rachel's response was mumbled. "Say that again."

"Timothy Slater."

Quinn's roared laughter produced two reactions. The first was an eye-roll; the second was more of a confused grimace than anything else.

"The weird guy from your class who speaks with a British accent, even though he's from Pennsylvania?"

"Yes!" Rachel hissed. "Look, this isn't the time to mock my choice of suitors. I need help!"

"That much is obvious."Quinn heard the words get stuck in Rachel's throat and relented for the time being. This would be perfect to bring up again at a later date. "What can I do?"

"Help me get rid of him!" she shrieked. "He won't move. He's lying there like a very annoying, inconvenient oaf who refuses to take a hint."

"Are you sure you didn't kill him?"Quinn's hand clapped over her mouth. "That slipped out."

"Are you quite finished?" Rachel asked. "Because I called you under the impression that you'd save me from further humiliation, not add to it."

"I'm sorry. All right, let's think about this."

Jamie was knocked sideways. Where had she woken up? What was this place? Were Quinn and Rachel really just friends? The phone call sure was making it seem that way. But the visits, and twice a month? She'd seen them interact, heard the way they spoke to each other. Jamie had a gay cousin. She knew how this worked. Didn't she?

Rachel raised her eyebrows expectantly. "Well?"

"I'm thinking."

Jamie appeared at Quinn's side with a sigh, pulling the phone out of her hand. She put it on speakerphone. "Rachel, you screwed that freak?" She didn't know the guy but she'd heard enough.

"I— that is a private matter that I wish to stay betwee—"

"We've all been there, okay, so lose the armour. My older sister slept with the guy who voiced T.J from Recess a few years ago. She'd heard his voice before but couldn't place it until they were rolling around in his bed and his voice went all high. She said the worst part was that she finished, twice."

"Oh, God." Rachel was horrified. Her head shook. "How does that help me? He's in my bed! Quinn, are you still there?"

"I'm here. Tell him your dads are on their way over," Quinn said.

"Genius," Rachel muttered in awe. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Turn your speakerphone on." Quinn called Connor over when he was dressed. She thrust the phone into his hand. "Pretend to be one of Rachel's dads. He won't know they're not visiting."

He stared at Quinn blankly.

"Rach, sweetie, your father and I are bringing breakfast over. Can you buzz us in?" Quinn prompted him.

Connor had to admit that the panicked, "Oh, shit!"from dear Timothy half a minute later was satisfying. His blue eyes stayed on Quinn the entire time but he'd never been very good at reading people. He couldn't tell if emotion flashed through her eyes or they'd just caught the early-morning light.

A week later, music was blaring from inside the apartment and Quinn was on her fourth cup of wine (glass shattered and she had better things to spend her money on), talking to Max, one of the guys who lived next door. His lap was the only available surface unless she counted her bed but she didn't want to move just yet. She knew everyone in her apartment and plenty of them were worth talking to but it was just that Max was comfortable and her fingers were tapping the beat to the song perfectly against his shoulder.

"They're contacts, right?" Max shouted over the music and voices of the other sixty people in the apartment. His eyes stubbornly refused to look anywhere but Quinn's.

Quinn leaned forward until their heads met. Staring deep into his eyes, she said, "Shut up."

"What? I'm serious! They're gorgeous."

Across the kitchen, Connor leaned down to Jamie's ear. "You said she was getting better."

Jamie's tone was defensive. "She is."

"She's drunk. She was drunk on the third cup. Lightweight."

"If you count the first few times, she's actually a middleweight now."

"Jamie."

She sighed. "Is the plan still in motion?"

Connor smiled.

There had been several times where they thought they'd invited too many people. The apartment wasn't exactly big and God, how many times would they have to turn the music down so the neighbours wouldn't complain again?

Connor got the text two minutes before there was a bang on the door, barely audible over the music. He looked over to Quinn, now dancing by herself or with one of the guys from next door, he couldn't tell, and cast a glance to Jamie who rushed past him for the door.

"New York!"

Rachel's shoulders visibly relaxed. She looked tired. Her hair was flat and the cold had flushed her cheeks on the walk from the train station. "It's nice to see you, Jamie."

Connor frowned at her appearance and leaned down to pick up her bags. "I wish you would have let me pick you up. Quinn will kill me."

Rachel smiled. "You're not afraid of her, are you?"

"Not if you tell her I walked with you."

"I can do that," she agreed. Rachel followed them inside and looked around for Quinn. Her heart was beating strongly. "Why did you throw a party without inviting anybody Quinn knows?" she asked, rolling her eyes at the ridiculousness of it. Clearly she needed to visit more. Living in New York had taught Rachel how to throw a spectacular party.

"We're dicks."

"We're idiots," Connor and Jamie said over each other.

"Well, I suppose I'm here now," Rachel said. "And unless either of your behaviour has done anything to jeopardise—"

"She's expecting you at six p.m. tomorrow, just like usual," Jamie said. "She even mentioned cleaning up by midday just in case, because you're like Monica Gellar with your apartment."

Rachel couldn't really argue with that.

Her eyes scanned the living area again and finally spotted Quinn. Her eyes were stuck watching Max's hands grip Quinn's ass, pulling her tight against his thigh that was shoved between her legs.

Jamie watched Rachel carefully, determined to figure her and Quinn out by the time the weekend was over. Rachel had looked entertainingly embarrassed at first, but then fairly detached.

Max leaned in for the kill but, just as his lips had made contact; Quinn turned her head and jumped away from him. Before he could fully process what had happened, she was across the room, jumping into someone else's arms.

Rachel was sent backwards into the wall but laughed quietly anyway. "Hello to you, too."

"What are you doing here?" Quinn asked after a long squeeze. She released Rachel but remained close. "Why didn't you call me? I would have met you!"

Rachel looked at Connor and Jamie. "I didn't think you knew anyone here, but by the looks of it I was mistaken?" Her eyes ended up on Max and Quinn turned around briefly.

"That's nobody," Quinn stated. "I'm glad you're here." Her eyes lit up and she let her hand travel Rachel's arm. When it reached her hand, she frowned. "Why is your hand cold?"

"It's unseasonably cold out," Rachel pointed out the obvious.

"Did you walk? In the dark? By yourself?"

Connor's eyes widened at the lilt to Quinn's voice.

"Connor was with me," Rachel supplied smoothly, not missing a beat.

Quinn grabbed his hand with her free one and scowled. It was warm. She dropped it. "Why is yours warm?"

"I—"

Rachel came to the rescue. "Mittens were invented for a reason, Quinn."

"And gloves," Connor added. As if he'd wear mittens, for God's sake.

Quinn kept her eyes on him even as she began to manoeuvre her and Rachel towards her bedroom so they could talk. "Liar," she mouthed at him.

After a quick stop at the fridge for a bottle of water, they were in Quinn's bedroom. It was dark and the window had been cracked for hours if the cool temperature was anything to go by. The empty space between the door and the bed was so familiar to Rachel now that she didn't even need the light on.

It was five steps. Four for Quinn.

The light was flipped on. It was brighter than she remembered it, but then she recalled their last Skype call and Quinn telling her that the bulb annoyingly blew on Tuesday after Jamie had made her sit through a ridiculously scary movie. Quinn hadn't been able to find a bulb with the same wattage in the miscellaneous drawer in the kitchen but this one would do.

It was just the two of them now.

Quinn's laugh was soft when she saw Rachel's eyes squint. "I know, I'm sorry. Do you want sunglasses? Sunscreen?"

"You really weren't kidding when you said it was like being on the sun."

"Am I known for my sense of humour, Rachel?"

Sometimes, Rachel thought to herself. With her, anyway. Quinn could actually be downright hilarious given the chance.

Quinn thrust her arm outward. "What do you think? Is it turning to leather yet?" she asked. "Not that I need to give you yet more material for how old I am."

Rachel's head angled down and she ran her fingers over Quinn's forearm. Soft, smooth. She'd never felt her like that before. Her lips were pulled upwards. "You're okay."

"Why are you here?" Quinn asked again.

Rachel knew Quinn was drunk the second she saw her. She expected to answer a few questions more than once.

"Jamie said you didn't know anyone here and you'd have more fun if I made it here a day early."

"Well," Quinn said. "Part of that is true."

"Who was that guy?" Rachel asked. "Dirty Dancing guy."

"No-one."

"Does no-one have a name?"

"Max. He's the new roommate next door."

"Drama?"

"Pre-med, I think. Twenty-one." Quinn was distracted. Her face brightened. "Do you want to meet everyone? You know some but you haven't met those girls I hate. You know, Kirsty and Genevieve from my drama class? Jamie invited them because she wants to get them really, humiliatingly drunk until they vomit. I think she has her camera ready."

Rachel agreed because she needed a distraction. She had her hand on the door handle when Quinn's fingers settled around her arm and pulled her around.

"Hey," Quinn protested gently, tugging Rachel until she was against her. "Thank you for coming."

"Yeah."

Rachel's arms were as secure around Quinn's body as they usually were, but she wasn't right. Quinn studied her when they separated.

"Are you okay?"

She couldn't help it, but her voice made Rachel's body stiffen. She nodded. "Fine. Aren't you going to introduce everyone out there to the next Broadway star?"

"No, hey." Quinn stopped when Rachel moved away from her touch. "Rachel..."

Rachel sighed when the door she'd managed to get halfway open was closed again, Quinn's hand firmly over both the door and the frame. She flipped the light off because it was torture and walked the five steps to Quinn's bed, sitting on the edge. The same side she slept on whenever she visited.

"That light is ridiculous," she said glumly. "We'll shop for the right wattage bulbs tomorrow."

Quinn downed half a bottle of water and sat next to Rachel on the bed. She felt blind. Going from such bright light to darkness was unsettling. She shifted backwards and crossed her legs, reaching out to hold Rachel's hand with both of hers. Quinn tipped sideways and Rachel's free hand shot out to keep her on the bed. When she was sure Quinn was balanced, she put the bedside light on. It was soft, perfect for reading. Quinn was looking at her when she turned back.

"Want me to get rid of everyone? The neighbours have already complained twice."

Rachel shook her head but was grateful for the offer. She didn't want to ruin anyone else's fun.

"What's the matter?" Quinn asked. "I know it's a whole extra day with me but I can disappear for a few hours tomorrow, take a long walk..." Rachel smiled faintly and Quinn squeezed her hand. "Come on."

"I was just reminded that people aren't always as good as I give them credit for." Rachel met Quinn's gaze and could almost see the wheels turning.

"Homeless guy on 125th?"

"No," Rachel said. "I—I think he's dead. I haven't seen him for a really long time."

"Pollyana is being cynical? Okay, this is serious."

"Why do you always call me that? Just because I can see the silver lining in most clouds doesn't mean I'm in any way delusional."Quinn didn't say anything and Rachel sighed, her skin crawling when she closed her eyes. "It's Timothy."

"What about him?"

"He told everyone," Rachel revealed. "People are talking about me like I'm a... I shouldn't— it shouldn't be bothering me like this. God knows I got talked about enough in high school. But I thought NYADA was my fresh start."

Quinn's voice was soft. "I'll be right back."

The door was closed behind her and then the music stopped abruptly. The apartment was empty, save for the four of them, in less than five minutes. Quinn didn't hold Rachel's hand when she got back on the bed but she did sit close.

"You know what I'm going to say."Rachel nodded. "So you know you can't let them get to you, Rachel. I know, okay, what it's like when people talk about you like that. It eats away at you."

Rachel rubbed her face. "It's so humiliating. At least Finn and Noah have annoyingly good looks. Timothy is so..." She squirmed. "Oh, what was I thinking?"

"You were drunk," Quinn said objectively. "It happens."

"It wasn't supposed to happen to me."

Quinn nodded. She knew that, too. Rachel was frowning deeply, headache set in even deeper. She lay down on top of the covers and inhaled deeply. There was still a small cobweb hanging on the ceiling right above that side of the bed. She'd told Quinn about it last month when she'd been there. Rachel would have to get rid of that tomorrow too. If Quinn had a stepladder she could borrow.

"It ends," Quinn said confidently, lying down in her usual side of the bed. "Sooner or later, someone in that place will have sex and wake up next to that guy or girl, repulsed and humiliated and full of regret. It's college, Rach. You'll be old news next week."

"I hope so."

"But you know the real reason for him telling everyone, don't you?"

"To be a gentleman."

"Well, sure," Quinn said. Her eyes moved over Rachel's face. "It's because you're the best he'll ever have. Like that worm will ever do better."

"You really are drunk."

"I'm serious. And okay, let's ask the most important question," Quinn began, "has that creep ruined the British accent for you?"

"No." Rachel began to smile but disciplined herself, forcing it away. "Don't. I want to wallow in self-pity."

Quinn's tongue ran over her lips. "Was he good?"

Rachel turned her head until her cheek pressed into the pillow. Her eyes hardened.

"Sorry," Quinn sighed. "I'm still new at this friends thing. I ask inappropriate questions at the worst times."

"You are not new, shut up." Rachel was quiet for a long time. "And no, he wasn't. I mean, it took a long time for me to... and he was really trying."

Quinn laughed. "Does that make it better or worse?"

"I have no idea."

"We'll go with better."

Rachel fell asleep long enough for the apartment to have no trace of a party left in it by the time she padded out to the bathroom to brush her teeth. The light was on and the door was only closed to, so she tapped lightly and pushed it open after a polite pause. Quinn was at the sink, mouth foaming as she brushed her teeth clean.

Rachel hadn't thought to get her toothbrush out of one of her bags but Quinn had done if for her. It was in the usual place, next to Quinn's holder and in front of Connor's.

"Hangover set in yet?" she asked when Quinn was rinsing.

Quinn groaned lightly and Rachel told her she'd feel better after some sleep. She brushed her teeth and caught sight of Quinn removing her make-up behind her. It was always nice to watch Quinn be Quinn, and not the perfect vision she'd had of her in high school. It wasn't like Quinn wasn't near to perfect without make-up in Rachel's opinion, but not many people saw her late at night like this.

When they were in bed a few minutes later, Rachel didn't mind when Quinn lay a little closer than usual. She switched the light off and shoved her arm back under the covers, seeking the warmth Quinn's bedroom didn't have. Closing the window would mean she would sleep badly though.

"Why are you here?" Quinn asked when Rachel turned over to the same position she always fell asleep in.

"For you."

"Just for me?"

"And because you're the only person who knows how to make me feel better anymore," Rachel said, her voice soft with sleep.

Quinn would slip away from Rachel at some point during the next day to call three of her friends. Kurt got the brunt of Quinn's anger, his feeble excuses doing nothing to help matters. He promised to take better care of Rachel when she got home.

Spring came and went and summer was spent kind of like the way Lucy and Rachel had both daydreamed about as children; with best friends. They went on a week's vacation the first week and made a pact not to mention Yale or NYADA at any point. Forfeit would be something terrible. The exact punishment wasn't ever stated but they managed to make it sound ominous and, well, no chances were going to be taken.

Sometimes they were off with other friends, describing adventures as soon as they saw each other again. Quinn went to visit Brittany and Santana and Rachel spent a week with Tina, Mercedes, Puck and Mike. When conversation shifted from Finn, the army and his new girlfriend, it moved to Rachel and New York. They were all surprised to hear how close she and Quinn were. Quinn had softened in her senior year but it was nothing compared to the way she had grown up at Yale. It had changed her as much as Rachel had ever hoped. Quinn was a wonderful friend.

Sometimes Quinn and Rachel spent a couple of weeks in New York at a time, some at Quinn's apartment, exploring the city with a more relaxed pace than usual. They weren't on a timer anymore.

There were three separate days where Rachel pointed out to Quinn that if she'd have put the sunscreen on when she'd reminded her to then her skin wouldn't have been burned to a crisp. Quinn had thanked her very much —very sarcastically— for her input each time.

They got drunk the third time Quinn got burned. It was the first time either of them had had a drink in a while.

When Quinn started crying, Rachel couldn't find it within to decline her request for alcohol to numb her pain and promptly opened a bottle of wine. It wasn't anything special but it got the job done. As predicted, Quinn's eyes were glazing over after her third glass and Rachel looked at her fondly. Even she held her alcohol better. How did that work?

They got through two bottles before they were gripping the kitchen counter tightly, peering into the wine cooler Rachel had invested in at some point during the year.

"We can't," Rachel muttered.

"We can," Quinn whispered.

"No."

"Yes."

"Graduation," Rachel explained. "We're not wearing our gowns. It's for after."

"After what?"

"Graduation. You're so drunk," she chastised lightly.

Quinn scoffed. "I'll replace it. And you'll still graduate."

"What if we don't? What if we drink it and drop out?" Rachel looked indignant all of a sudden. "My dads trust me."

"Do you want to drop out, Rachel? Throw all this away?" Quinn asked, sounding like she was having a serious conversation. Her burned face and glassy eyes made her look ridiculous.

Rachel closed her eyes and shook her head. "No."

"Then it's fine."

She opened her eyes in time to see Quinn reaching inside the cooler, eyes trained on hers. Rachel frowned. "No," she repeated half-heartedly.

Quinn didn't stop. She nodded and watched Rachel bite her lip as soon as her fingers touched the cold bottle of champagne. It was costly. Quinn remembered her father's company having this at some Christmas parties. Her hand wrapped around it and pulled it out slowly, like it would shatter if she wasn't careful.

Rachel snatched it from Quinn's hands as soon as it was free.

"I'm drinking from the bottle!"

They managed half of it until they were asleep in the living room. The music was left blaring until the album finished.

A week later when Rachel was telling that particular story to Kurt, who had just come back from visiting Burt and Carole, Quinn's head shot up from the book she'd been reading.

"I didn't cry!"

Rachel's fathers couldn't manage the same vacation days from work in October so Rachel flew out to see them instead. It was strange, not spending the weekend with Quinn and her friends in New York. She was so used to planning her time with Quinn in it now. When Rachel offered Quinn to fly with her, she politely declined. Quinn had so much work to get through that weekend that she doubted she'd be sleeping at any point during it anyway. She would have had to take all of it with her to New York if Rachel hadn't have gone away.

Rachel wasn't too disappointed. It was a treat to spend a full day with her Dad, and then her Daddy. She was spoiled rotten and didn't mind one bit. Of course, she didn't go empty-handed herself. She spotted celebrities frequently now that she was a city girl. Her Daddy had almost died when she handed him an autograph and told him about the time she met Al Pacino and signed him an autograph in return, leaving out his bewildered expression as she walked away.

While Rachel was watching some of her childhood favourite musicals with her Dad later that night, Quinn was at her kitchen table, slamming her laptop screen shut using just shy of the amount of strength it would have taken to crack the screen.

"Go away," she said when there was a knock at her door. Connor and Jamie were staying at his dorm room because his roommate was away for the weekend.

"You'll regret saying that when you see what I have in my hands."

It was Max from next door.

Quinn made her way to the door. "Are you being gross?"

"In front of a lady?"

She smiled. "Is it food?"

"Open the door and find out," he said.

Quinn kept the chain on, only peeking out to glance down. Max had take-out and beer. There wasn't really a choice to be made but she did tell him that all she had time for was something to eat and one beer. Limiting herself to no more than one drink, she also found that when she wasn't drunk he wasn't annoying. Max was actually sweet and funny and, if she was shallow for a second, nice to look at. He was a catch, she was sure of it.

Her mother would certainly approve.

When they'd finished dinner and had been talking for longer than Quinn realised, she shook her almost empty bottle. "You have to go."

Max looked surprised. "Now?"

"Did you expect to stay longer because you brought me dinner and drinks?"

"No, but I thought you'd warm to me after I told you three embarrassing stories. Wasn't that worth one more beer?"

Quinn smiled. "Maybe. But not tonight."

Max saw defeat. "Want help cleaning up?"

"I'll take care of it."

He held out his hand and pulled Quinn off the couch. Her skin was softer than he'd imagined. "This is where I say thanks for opening your door," Max said.

"Thanks for knocking. And feeding me."

"I wasn't sure you'd be here," he said as they walked towards the door. "But I heard a rumour that you were staying home this weekend and thought I'd try my luck. First time in a while you've been in, right?"

"It's because of that," Quinn explained, moving her outstretched hand in a circle around the kitchen table. "That big mess there."

"Well, you're all fuelled up now," Max shrugged. "Should be easier to work through. But some advice from a pre-med?" Quinn looked at him expectantly. "It's always more fun to write with two beers instead of one."

Quinn nodded curtly. "Noted."

"Goodnight?" he guessed when they arrived at the door.

"Now I know why you got into Yale."

Max laughed. "My skills of deduction are something to envy."

"Goodnight," Quinn said, tiptoeing to hug him. She realised then that she was so used to leaning down a few inches for a hug that this felt like old times with Finn. But different in the way that Max was an inch shorter than Finn and clearly worked out.

"Wait," Max protested when Quinn was saying goodnight on the other side of her now open door. He looked down to the bottle in her hand. "You said dinner and a beer. Judging from how long it's taken you to drink three quarters of that, I have, what, another thirty minutes to prove that I'm not a creep?"

Quinn smiled, bringing the bottle to her lips. She downed three-and-a-half mouthfuls in one go.

"That wasn't fair," Max said in a daze. She was perfect.

"Goodnight."

When there was a knock at her door not even thirty seconds later, Quinn laughed and picked up his jacket that was still slung across the back of one of the kitchen chairs and opened the door.

"You forgot your jacket, I kn—"

Max pulled her into a kiss before she could finish that.

Lying in her childhood bed the next night, Rachel did something she'd wanted to do hundreds of times during high school, she called Quinn.

"My dads miss you," she opened with.

"I know," Quinn said with a smile. "I got a text."

"I think they miss you more than they missed me."

"It's possible."

"What are you doing?" Rachel asked. "Am I interrupting one of your papers?"

"I'm almost done."

"Yeah?" Rachel sounded as surprised as she felt. "I figured you'd be pulling another all-nighter. Yesterday you said you didn't even have a worthy introduction."

"My fingers have been glued to the keys for a disgusting amount of hours. I took a break last night and, I don't know, everything flowed better after that."

Rachel pulled a stuffed monkey off her headboard, cuddling it tightly as she turned over. She'd almost forgotten about Maurice in the time she'd been away. "What'd you do?"

"Dinner and drinks," Quinn said easily. "Well, one drink."

"By yourself?" Rachel smiled. "I told you that drinking alone increases the chance of depression by—"

"No, uh, Max came over. He wouldn't go away and well, he had food, so."

"Pre-med Max, the one at your party?"

"Yeah. He's, um, usually better behaved than that. He was drunk," Quinn said, sounding nervous to Rachel's ears. The way she had sounded the first weekend Rachel's fathers were in New York the same weekend she was last year.

"Did he kiss you?" Rachel didn't know why she was asking or why, in the time it took Quinn to respond, she felt the three thumps of her heart as powerfully as she did.

"Yeah."

"What was it like?"

Quinn laughed quietly. "I don't know. Nice?"

"Fireworks?"

"No, just nice."

"You kissed Max?" Rachel heard Jamie screech in the background. It almost made her smile.

"I think Jamie has a thing for him," Quinn concluded quietly after going to her bedroom for some privacy. "You should have seen her face just now."

There was some rustling and Rachel knew exactly how Quinn would be lying in her bed. She could see it without even closing her eyes.

"Will you be at my place next week?" Rachel asked.

"Unless you've changed your locks."

That made Rachel feel better.

Sort of.

She heard Quinn gasp before anything else.

"You've grown!"

"That's biologically impossible given my age," Rachel said, turning to the direction of Quinn's voice. She smiled when she saw her. Quinn had cut her hair in the three days since she'd seen her face on her computer screen. "No changes with you, I see."

"No." Quinn shook her head. She pulled Rachel closer and used her hand to gauge the difference between Rachel's head and her own. "You've grown."

"It's only been a month since we've seen each other." She looked up to Quinn's eyes, the same short distance she'd always had to. "But you've obviously gone crazy without me around."

"Didn't I always?"

"True."

"And I still want to hug you," Quinn said bemused, leaning down to wrap her arms around her friend. She held on for a while longer. "I missed you," she whispered against the same part of Rachel's neck she always did.

Rachel's expression was close to neutral when they parted. "I missed you too, of course. Now, let's get going. We have to drop your things off at home and I have a hundred things I want to do today." Rachel looked up at Quinn as they walked out of Grand Central. She finally smiled. "I like your hair, Quinn."

Rachel was the insane one, Quinn decided that night when she was lying in her bed. She couldn't move without hurting. They had walked the length of the city twice and nothing would convince her feet otherwise.

Closing her bedroom door, Rachel saw Quinn's smile before she turned the light off. "I thought you said you and your feet were, and I quote, in excruciating pain?"

"I am, and they are."

"Then why were you smiling? Weirdo."

Quinn tried to move her feet but a pain shot through them. "Ow," she complained but it didn't totally remove the amusement from her expression. "Ever see Misery?"

Even in the dark, Rachel looked apologetic. And then she didn't. "I suppose I'm the crazed lunatic?"

"You did drag me all over New York in those shoes."

"Well, why were you wearing them in the first place? The vertically challenged are the only ones who should be wearing anything with a heel."

"I wanted to look nice."

"You don't have to do anything special to impress me, Quinn."

Quinn laughed. "Good to know."

Rachel was quiet for almost a full minute. When she did speak again, it was so loud and unexpected that it jolted Quinn. "Blaine carried you from the taxi to the elevator!"

"Shut up, I'm right here," Quinn said, nudging her. "And yeah, when the damage had already been done. The only reason we didn't walk back here after dinner —after you made us skip lunch— was because Kurt was practically in a food coma and insisted on sharing and paying for the ride home."

"You should have said something," Rachel said softly.

"I thought my limp spoke volumes."

"You're making me feel terrible," she huffed. "And you know I can't sleep when I'm in emotional turmoil."

"How does my pain turn into your pain?"

"You're my best friend," Rachel said simply. "What you feel, I feel. It's one of the downsides to a deep friendship."

How different this picture was. Lying in bed with Rachel Berry, being her best friend... Quinn had fought against this so hard in high school and now she had no idea why.

"I'm fine, Rachel," Quinn said quietly. "Just pulling your little leg."

"Clearly I mean a great deal to you, too."

Quinn laughed through the pain when she put her ice-cold foot on Rachel's for warmth, earning a sharp intake of breath and screeched cry. And then she was kicked in the shins.

"What was that?"

"My foot. What else is it going to be?"

"I think you need to see a chiropodist. Your circulation is horrifying."

"It's because the window is open so wide. The building isn't on fire, you know. We don't have to jump."

"My body temperature elevates at night, okay? I won't apologise for something I have no control over."

"It's okay," Quinn said, sliding her foot back over the sheets until she met Rachel's again. "This can be your penance."

Rachel cringed at the temperature but didn't give a second thought to sliding her foot up and down Quinn's after a while. It didn't fully register that she was doing it. "When was the last time you had a foot massage?"

"Probably around the time you last used pumice, so, a while ago?"

"There's nothing wrong with my feet."

Quinn didn't mean to move either but there was a warm spot right below Rachel's ankle that felt better than anything else she could imagine. It was warming her toes up in no time. "I didn't say there was."

Several minutes later when both of Quinn's feet were comfortably warm again, Rachel turned over, sliding her other foot out until it touched Quinn's.

"Just in case," she said. "Goodnight, Quinn."

"Night, Rachel."

It was Sunday morning when they were on their way to Grand Central once again that things changed. Quinn turned to look behind Rachel when they both heard a series of honked horns and the early-morning sun illuminated her face perfectly. It was only a brief moment in the scheme of things but Rachel's lips parted with the constriction in her chest.

That was the first time Rachel knew she was truly screwed.

Nine days later, Quinn left the bathroom in a towel and Connor politely averted his eyes as soon as he saw naked glistening skin. He couldn't quite remove his smile as quickly though.

"Quinneth!" Jamie hollered over her shoulder. She was surfing the internet on the couch. "Come here."

Quinn hesitated but held the towel tighter around her body and made her way behind Jamie. "Don't call me that, and what?"

Jamie was on Rachel's Facebook page. She had been tagged in a new album. Jamie knew it was going to be perfect the second she saw it. "You didn't tell me Rachel knew how to dance like that."

The pictures, all thirty-seven of them, had Rachel dancing intimately with guys Quinn had never met before. She frowned and her voice came out quiet but annoyed. "She told me she was sick last weekend..."

Quinn had been feeling overwhelmed and stressed with college and needed Rachel's optimism to help her get over it. Only, when she'd called, it went unanswered. A few minutes later she'd received a text from Rachel telling her that she was sick and did she call for anything important. Of course Quinn didn't tell her yes. She wished Rachel felt better soon and told her to call if she needed anything.

"Why do you think she blew you off?" Jamie asked innocently.

Quinn's face look like it had been slapped, and the smile looked to almost break it. "To be with hot guys?"

"They are pretty hot." Jamie chewed her lip, watching Quinn's face intently as she clicked through the pictures. "There's this guy coming up though, easily beats them all."

When Quinn saw Rachel's legs spread over some guy's she didn't even know, looking at his large hands all over her body with his tongue shoved down Rachel's throat, a look so cold and hard appeared on her face that Jamie's little smile disappeared.

"What are you doing?" Quinn demanded.

Jamie moved back imperceptibly and shook her head, in a state of fear and shock. "Nothing."

"No, what are you doing?"

"Quinn, I—"Jamie moved again and the laptop fell sideways, forcing Quinn's eyes to it again. She rushed to close it.

"Are you trying to embarrass her, because the only person who should be embarrassed is the idiot who uploaded those for everyone to see."

"No! Jesus, Quinn."

Quinn focused her intense glare on her roommate for a few seconds longer and then stormed away, slamming her bedroom door shut so hard that Connor flinched.

Jamie's mouth was hanging open. "Oh my God!" she mouthed through a laugh, still terrified. She'd never seen that Quinn before. "What the fuck was that?"

Connor had more sense than to laugh. What if Quinn saw? He raised his hands in the air. "I'm gone."

"What? You can't leave me. What if she comes back out and bludgeons me to death?"

Connor nodded towards the door. "Let's go." When they were almost through it, he gave her a disapproving look. "You know you were asking for that though, right? It's been forever. You have to let this go and apologise."

Quinn's body had dried totally by the time the nausea had gone. It was Jamie she was angry with but when Rachel called her two hours later, Quinn didn't pick up.

One a.m. that night, she decided that, no, she was equally as furious with Rachel.

Three days later, when Rachel had talked herself into such a state that she was considering hopping on a train to New Haven at close to midnight, Jamie walked into Quinn's bedroom without even knocking.

She had looked brighter.

Jamie's voice was laced with sleep. "I know you're still pissed at me but she won't stop calling, and unless you talk to her she says she'll continue to call until you do. So, here." Jamie tossed the phone on Quinn's bed and closed the door after her.

"You know I won't," Quinn heard, muffled by the comforter. Eighty miles couldn't silence Rachel, apparently.

Quinn snatched up Jamie's phone. She'd been asleep herself. "I was asleep."

Rachel sighed in relief. "Have you been asleep for the past few days? I'd have to insist on you seeing a doctor if—"

"What's up?" Quinn broke in aloofly.

"Where have you been?"

"Nowhere. Here. Where have you been?"

Rachel frowned. "Are you okay?" she asked quietly. "You sound..."

"It's late, Rachel. I'm tired."

"Did something happen?"

Quinn's glare was focused on the pillow Rachel slept on. It was almost like glaring at her. "Yeah, you woke me up."

"Is it me? Did I do something?" Rachel asked. "I don't know if it's my paranoia or if the signs really are all pointing towards you being mad at me."

"You weren't sick last weekend," Quinn responded sharply.

"Quinn..."

"What? You were too sick to talk to me but well enough that you couldn't refuse an offer to go dancing?"

"Come on," Rachel said soothingly, "you tell me everything you do?"

"No, but I don't lie about it."

Rachel's confusion was carved into her face. "But you said your call could wait, that it wasn't important."

"It doesn't matter. Who cares if I was calling you to tell you someone had died or I'd stubbed my toe? The point is you lied to me."

"Over going out," Rachel said, losing a little of her patience. "God, Quinn, why is this turning into a fight? I was worried about you."

"And Jamie thought the photos were ridiculous," Quinn said, seeing no point in fighting the urge. "Tasteless."

Rachel sighed. "Am I still visiting Friday?"

"I don't care." Quinn's answer came out so abruptly that she didn't think about it. Her face was twisted stubbornly, until the thick silence and then dial-tone left her deflated and full of regret.

She burst into Jamie's room and threw the phone at her. It clonked off her head.

"Ow!"

"This is your fault," Quinn accused, and slammed the door shut.

Things didn't improve with a good night's sleep. Quinn's stomach twisted unpleasantly at the sight of breakfast the next morning, and then in remorse when she saw the faint bruise on Jamie's hairline. An apology was on the tip of the tongue but she couldn't make it pass through her lips.

And there was her phone, glued to her hand in case she missed a call or text from Rachel. But she couldn't initiate contact herself. God, what would she even say? Sorry I was a raging bitch without good reason. How's the weather?

The tension in the apartment was suffocating her, so as soon as Jamie went to get dressed Quinn left a bottle of water and two pain-killers on the counter next to her coffee and set out an hour early to her morning class.

The day didn't improve.

Max stopped by without an invitation that night and this time he did annoy Quinn but she returned his kiss when he leaned in. They'd been out on two casual dates since the time he'd come over with beer and take-out. This was the first time they'd kissed like this and she let him guide her down against the couch as his kisses grew deeper.

Quinn wanted this but she wanted it differently. She wanted rougher hands and harder kisses. Her teeth scraped against his neck sharply and she gripped the back of his neck when he kissed her lips the way she wanted him to, until it hurt.

It wasn't too long later that his hips were slowly working against hers.

"Do you want to...?" Max asked unsurely. Quinn hadn't pushed him away but she didn't look half as interested as he was either.

"No." Quinn seemed to snap out of something and she shook her head. "No. God, I'm sorry."

He sighed, moving off her. "Call me if you want to, Quinn."

When the apartment door closed, it was seconds until Quinn covered her face with her hands. What was she doing?

She didn't make it to her afternoon class the next day, too anxious to sit through a lecture. Rachel still hadn't tried to call or text, and the one time Quinn worked up the courage to call Rachel first, her phone died as soon as her thumb pushed the button. She took it as a sign and decided to wait, at least until her phone had fully-charged again.

Thinking about it rationally, a phone call was probably too much to ask after how strained things has become. A text would be better.

She sent it at 4.07p.m.

Are you still coming today?

As soon as ten minutes passed without a reply, Quinn gritted her teeth. Rachel never took that long to reply. She must be beyond words. Quinn didn't even want to think about how bad she'd messed up if she'd caused Rachel to be in such a state.

Mostly to keep from going insane, Quinn went to take a shower. Connor and Jamie were in the living room watching TV when she was finished.

Connor choked on a Dorito when Quinn stood in front of the TV in nothing but a towel.

Quinn's eyes were fixed on Jamie. "I'm sorry," she said, obviously in pain at being the first one to apologise. It didn't happen often. "I don't know why I've been such a bitch. I know you'd never insult Rachel like that."

Jamie smiled. "It's cool," she shrugged. "I'm sorry too. Really."

Quinn went to her bedroom to get dressed and sighed when she saw only one text message, not from Rachel.

Still, it was deserved so she would suck it up and head out to Union Station the same time she did every second Friday of the month and wait to see if Rachel would show.


	2. two

It was nerve-wracking. She felt more anxious than the time they were meeting up again for the first time since graduation. Rachel's stomach was in knots and she gripped the end of her scarf with her free hand. There was never enough time to tie it properly before she got off the train and it was hung loosely around her neck as she navigated the crowd and their luggage. She wanted to kick some of them sometimes, trailing behind so far behind the owner, making her slow her own pace so that she didn't trip over it.

She took a deep breath. She could do this.

Quinn was on a bench ten yards away.

Rachel looked at her freely. She was sitting up straight, legs crossed with a serious look on her face as she looked around in the other direction. Not entirely approachable to most people. Rachel recognised that as Quinn's nervous behaviour.

"You look terrible," she said, surprising Quinn with her sudden appearance.

Quinn turned sharply. She looked at Rachel long enough to conclude that it wasn't her imagination. The bags under her eyes were too big. She shrugged, reaching for the coffee she'd brought ten minutes earlier and handed Rachel hers as she stood.

"So do you."

It was the only thing they said for a while.

Halfway to Quinn's apartment, without even the radio on to distract from the awkward silence, a car in the next lane swerved into hers without warning. Quinn jerked the wheel roughly, narrowly avoiding a collision.

When the first initial wave of shock wore off, Quinn pulled over and put her hand on Rachel's arm. "You okay?"

Rachel nodded. "Are you? Fast reflexes, by the way. My dad would be proud."

Quinn nodded as well. "Look, before we _die_, I just wanted to tell you that I'm—"

"I'm sorry too," Rachel blurted out. "I-I've been dying to say it for days. And I'm sorry I didn't reply to your text. Reception was horrible so I only got it a few minutes before I got here and I wanted the first thing —or one of them— I said to be an apology. I wanted to tell you in person and not in front half of Connecticut. Not that I wouldn't apologise by public broadcast if I felt the situation was bad enough... I'm sorry, for not being entirely truthful with you, and for anything that I do that makes you feel like I don't value you as much as I do." Rachel gripped Quinn's arm when it looked like she was about to respond. "Sometimes I have to tell Kurt that he's my best girlfriend, but the truth is it couldn't be anyone but you. You're my best friend and I love you so much, and I'm so grateful that you usually seem to like me too." Quinn was staring at her. "And I'm sorry," she added quietly.

"Get out of the car."

Rachel blinked. "What?"

"Out."

"It's a busy road, there's moving traffic," she pointed out the obvious.

"I don't care," Quinn said.

Rachel looked a little put out. "You're trying to have me killed? I was being sincere!" She looked on in horror as Quinn threw her door open and leapt out of the car like it was on fire. Rachel flung her seatbelt away and did the same on her side, missing how she was actually safe and away from the traffic, and met Quinn somewhere in the middle. "Are you crazy? You're going to get us both killed!"

The only danger Rachel was in was the possibility of being suffocated by Quinn's arms, wrapped so tight around her body that it was hard to breathe. Pulled up on her tiptoes, all Rachel could do was wrap her arms around Quinn and try to return the embrace as tightly, wondering where Quinn was getting this kind of strength from.

Quinn's eyes had closed and she ducked her head lower, until her lips almost brushed against Rachel's neck.

"I'm sorry," she said, over and over.

Very rarely but still all the same, Quinn's paranoia could be worse than Rachel's. Growing up, her mother's friends had all been the sort to gossip like their lives depended on it. If someone's life had been turned upside down in their community, they dedicated an afternoon tea to it (Judy's would be a long island). If one of them lied, even about something trivial, it would be brought up maliciously during the pretence of a book club meeting, conveniently forgetting to invite the friend they would be discussing at great lengths. An affair? Nervous breakdown? _Bankruptcy? _

When she was old enough to know how vile they were, Quinn used to wonder how on earth her mother could spend so much time with those sorts of people. How you could be friends with someone if you thought— and in their case, hoped— the worst every time something happened, Quinn didn't know. She had grown up, her friends were nothing like her mother's, but a small part of Quinn rose to the surface sometimes who had never experienced this new, older Quinn's life and wanted to know just how loyal her friends were. Were they waiting for her to fail too, like her mother's friends used to?

It was moments like this that she realised how _glad _she was to not be around either of her parents anymore and to have Rachel.

If the best part of people were hidden away, then every time Rachel touched Quinn she was bringing it closer to the surface.

They had dinner in Rachel's favourite Italian restaurant and exchanged embarrassed smiles when the couple on the next table to them —situated a little too closely for Quinn's taste but this was about Rachel— got engaged. Loudly.

"Wow," Rachel had commented dryly when the newly-engaged couple began to suck face right next to her.

Waiting for the check, all Quinn had been able to do was sip at her water until the glass was empty. Rachel and Quinn both insisted on taking care of the bill when it arrived, bringing forth a five-minute _discussion_on who would actually get to pay.

"You paid to get here," Quinn reasoned, using the same tone of voice that ended most _discussions _with anyone else. Of course, Rachel wasn't anyone else.

"And you've wasted gas just to drive to the station to pick me up even though I tell you every time that I like to walk, and at the very least, am a professional at hailing a cab now."

"You paid the bill last time I was in New York," Quinn said. "When I was in the restroom, no less. I felt terrible."

"How was I to know you weren't having a cash-flow problem when you conveniently needed to pee after the waiter said he'd bring out the check?" Rachel gripped the current one tightly in case Quinn tried to snatch it out of her hands again.

Quinn gawped at her. "I am not that kind of person."

"The kind of person who needs to pee?"

"I was desperate. I'd been holding it in for over an hour. You're the one who always says how bad it is to hol—"

"It is," Rachel said.

Quinn tugged forcibly, snatching the check from Rachel's hand. "I'm paying."

* * *

When they got back to Quinn's apartment, Jamie and Connor were still in the living room. Jamie stood up to greet them and smiled unsurely, not knowing if Rachel was upset with her.

"Hey, New York."

Jamie needn't have bothered worrying. Rachel was hugging her almost as soon after.

Quinn was busying herself with the coffee machine when Jamie went over to her a few minutes later. "Everything ship-shape with you guys?"

Quinn nodded. "Yeah."

"I'm still sorry," Jamie said. "Look, I really like her, okay? If I did anything to compromise your...friendship, well, it was never my intention."

On the couch next to Connor, Rachel glanced up at Quinn and smiled. It hit Quinn all at once, hurtling into her chest until she felt a brief but tangible tightness. The coffee filter nearly slipped from her hands.

"We're fine, don't worry about it."

Jamie looked pleased, closing her eyes in a sigh. It made her miss a very interesting look of confusion pass over Quinn's face at what had just happened. "Okay good, because if your friendship ever ends, I want joint custody between you two," she said. "I mean it; I like New York a lot. I'm a little in love with her, actually."

"Her name is Rachel," Quinn said, scooping two extra spoonfuls of coffee into the filter because Rachel liked hers insanely strong. She pushed the appropriate button and walked away.

"And yours is Ross," Jamie mumbled, smiling brightly when Quinn looked over her shoulder with a questioning look in her narrowed eyes.

Their feet were against each other's. It was going to be their thing now, an unspoken kind of thing where they never had to ask or say a word about doing it ever again. Quinn's covers were thicker than Rachel's so her feet weren't as ice-cold as last time but that didn't stop Rachel from moving hers, slowly rubbing them over Quinn's as she thought about the past week.

She hadn't slept much of it but her last performance had blown everyone away, so perhaps there could be a silver lining to the dark cloud that fighting with Quinn created.

Maybe it wasn't exactly smart or fair to either of them, sleeping in the same bed like this but Rachel turned her head to look at Quinn. She looked peaceful with her eyes closed.

"Why aren't you asleep?"

Rachel's feet stilled. "Coffee."

"Your tolerance for caffeine is as high as the Empire State," Quinn said, opening her eyes. "And you only had one cup, hours ago. You look like the walking dead, go to sleep."

"You're the corpse."

"Go to sleep."

Rachel turned over to her side, facing away from Quinn. She thought she was being subtle enough when she asked, "Do you ever miss being with someone?"

"Sometimes," Quinn replied.

"I miss being held."

The bed dipped slightly next to her a few moments later and Rachel's smile was private even before she felt Quinn's arm slip around her. She decided right then that she would do the week over again if it meant this, having Quinn hold her like this in her bed.

Rachel would do a lot of things if it meant having Quinn like this.

Dancing with those guys hadn't made a shred of difference, and kissing one of them, trying to make it feel good, had left her unsatisfied and annoyed.

"Can you fall asleep like this?"

Quinn's voice —quiet and so close to her ear, had Rachel's eyes drifting shut. "Yeah."

Rachel was asleep faster than Quinn thought she would be and her arm tightened around her smaller body, pressing more firmly against her back. Rachel was so warm and Quinn didn't know how or why having Rachel close like this made her feel a hundred times worse about how they'd fought the past week, but it did.

She slid her chilly feet all the way over to the other side of the bed and moved until they were both nestled against or under Rachel's.

Quinn lowered her head until her lips touched Rachel's covered shoulder. It was the perfect size, really. She didn't kiss it. She didn't move at all, just rested her mouth there because it was the most comfortable position. Fifty minutes later, both asleep now, Quinn's lips did move, right before her arm braced her weight to turn over; first against Rachel's shoulder, and then the back of her neck.

* * *

Rachel had never wanted to extend her visit more than she did on Sunday morning. Before making up, she had only given thought to what her weekend would have been like if Quinn had been the way she'd been on the phone. Either that, or silent. But Quinn hadn't been anything like that during the weekend. She'd been the complete opposite.

They'd shopped for things they didn't really need on Saturday morning and had coffee and lunch with Quinn's friends from school. They ran into Kirsty and Genevieve on the way out and Quinn told Rachel about the Monday just gone where Genevieve had done her very best to stare Quinn out after Quinn had been given the best feedback on the group performance. Of course, she then had to steer Rachel towards the car and not back inside the coffee shop where she would prove a not at all confrontational point.

They went to the movies on Saturday night, seeing no reason not to invite Connor and Jamie to join them when Rachel spotted them ahead in the queue. When it was over and they were walking out, Quinn adjusted her arm accordingly as Rachel slipped her hand through it and held on.

Arriving back at the apartment usually meant that Rachel's first stop was the stereo, hitting play on either her or Quinn's iPod and either putting it on shuffle or playing a new mix that they hadn't heard together yet.

They were in the living room, alone because Jamie was sleeping at Connor's, and quiet because Quinn liked to listen to the lyrics more than anything. They were lying down, Quinn on the couch and Rachel was diagonal on the floor when she spoke.

"So, who was the guy?" Quinn asked. Rachel craned her neck and rolled over, looking up at her curiously. "From last weekend."

There had been several guys Rachel had danced with, but she knew exactly which one Quinn meant. Or she thought so anyway. "I didn't catch his name."

"It's serious, then?"

Rachel smiled. "Yes, Quinn." For a few seconds of just looking at her, Quinn thought Rachel looked overwhelmingly concerned and sincere. After a while Rachel added, "I didn't sleep with him."

Relief spread through Quinn. She understood it right away; he could have been another Timothy. He could have hurt Rachel. "Why not?"

Rachel shrugged. "I didn't want to."

"Max won't be coming over anymore," Quinn said, interrupting a song later.

"I didn't like him anyway."

She smiled. "No?"

"You'll find someone else."

Yeah, Quinn thought. Maybe.

In bed two hours later, Rachel didn't even have to drop a hint before Quinn's arm was around her. She fell asleep first again, leaving Quinn wide awake.

Quinn's eyes were on the window; open because of Rachel. Why else? It was open because the first time Rachel visited she'd asked if it was all right that they opened it so she could sleep, and every time after that Quinn remembered to open it before Rachel had to ask. She wanted her to always be comfortable there.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd slept with the window closed, even when Rachel wasn't there. Quinn didn't think too much after that.

When she woke up the next morning, the first thing she noticed was that someone was stroking her fingers. Rachel wasn't fully awake because Quinn noticed, after a few seconds, Rachel was blinking slowly. It wasn't too much later than seven-thirty otherwise Rachel would be in the shower or making coffee in the kitchen. College made sure Rachel didn't wake at six every morning anymore but she could still never stay in bed unoccupied for long.

Quinn's eyes fell on their hands; joined, and let Rachel continue.

They looked nice together, Rachel thought. They felt better. Not wanting to disturb her, Rachel held Quinn's hand loosely and carefully raised her arm, turning back on her side to pull Quinn's arm around her.

She would let herself have another ten minutes like this.

Later that morning, Quinn couldn't see anything in Rachel's behaviour that indicated anything had happened earlier so she tried not to think about it.

Standing on a freezing cold platform, during the first of their usual two, Rachel was hugging Quinn tighter than normal, holding on several seconds longer. She had her lips pressed together, brows drawn tight. As soon as Quinn began to pull away, the tension slipped from Rachel's face like it had never been there.

"So, be good."

Quinn smiled. Rachel said that to her every time they said goodbye at a train station. "I'm a good girl, Rachel."

"You're a talented actress. Influenced by my own talent, of course."

"That doesn't mean I'm not a good girl," Quinn said. "Who...happened to get a pretty big 'B' in sophomore year of high school."

Mentions of Beth always managed to warm Rachel inside. It was Beth that had been a catalyst to their friendship. Rachel's palms faced outwards. "I'm saying nothing."

"Probably for the best," Quinn said with an airy sigh. "We don't want to start fighting again, do we? High school style."

"No." Rachel's response was swift and sombre, breaking out into a smile afterwards. "I will say this though; being in New York has expanded my vocabulary since then."

"Do I want to know how?"

"Shoulder past me."

Quinn looked delightfully scandalised. "You swear now, Rachel Berry? How did I not know this?"

"It's a well-known fact that certain people in New York respond to more colourful language," Rachel shrugged. "How can I argue with facts?"

"Well, you can't."

"That's what I'm saying."

A tinny announcement from the speaker told them that the faint rumble they heard a second ago was Rachel's train approaching the station. The passengers began to file out from the covered waiting area, some looking as dispirited as Rachel felt. She looked away from them and couldn't find what she'd been searching for.

Had Quinn left without saying goodbye?

It took ten seconds and a heart-drop to spot her again, approaching with a bottle of water from the vending machine.

"Last time you said you nearly died of thirst before you got home." Rachel made quick work of reaching into her purse and Quinn lifted an eyebrow. "Don't think about insulting me by paying me back."

Rachel moved her hand to the side and pulled out her phone. "I was checking the time."

"Good," Quinn said, passing the bottle over.

"I won't insult you with a 'thank you' either but I will say that I didn't have a terrible time this weekend."

Quinn laughed. "Oh, success."

With the train screeching to a stop at the platform, Rachel pushed her hair back out of her face and opened her arms. She had to raise her voice. "Let's get this over with."

"You meant to say?" Quinn stepped forward anyway, making Rachel smile.

"Come here."

Quinn's eyes didn't close. They never did. But this goodbye felt different and if it wasn't for the couple watching her from inside the train she didn't know what might have happened. Quinn averted her eyes and let her hand rub over Rachel's back, using her other arm to hold her body firmly against her own. Quinn's face was beautifully contorted in conflicted misery.

Just as Rachel's had earlier, Quinn's gloomy face transformed into something more like teasing mirth when they pulled apart.

"Okay, that's enough of your face for two weeks," Quinn said, lifting Rachel's case onto the train. She stepped back to let Rachel past her and was surprised and horrified to notice the way her hand hovered close to Rachel's back as she climbed aboard and over that stupidly large gap between the train and the platform.

Rachel got a seat next to the window —opposite that nosy fucking couple who had almost ruined Quinn's goodbye earlier— and composed a quick text message. She linked her fingers together on the table and watched Quinn reach into her purse. Rachel waited until she saw Quinn's smile and left her with a final image as the train chugged away: an impressively sad pout.

Not long after, Rachel's phone went off. It was Quinn.

I'll miss you too.

* * *

Their lives continued the way they always did.

They were both busier than they'd like to be on some days, both pushed through difficult performances and revelled in the great ones, saw friends and put up with the people they disliked who also disliked them both in return. Perhaps it was a case of personal or professional jealousy, or maybe it was okay to look at someone for the first time and decide right there and then that you didn't like them. Why did there have to be a reason? People don't sit around justifying why they like a person right off the bat. It was what it was.

The only thing that had changed was the way Quinn was thinking about Rachel. She couldn't stop thinking about her. She couldn't stop thinking about the sights and smells of New York and aching feet and delicious but overpriced food. Quinn couldn't stop thinking about nights in and nights out and sparkling brown eyes and rich laughter.

But she also had other thoughts sometimes; stubborn thoughts that she tried to tell herself over and over again.

The lines couldn't blur with Rachel. They hadn't. Quinn would close her eyes and think that it was just like the times she was on vacation and see the boats so far in the distance that they looked like they were in the sky. It was impossible. Nothing more than a trick of the mind.

Jamie raised a brow when slim fingers laced through her own. She took her eyes off the TV to see Quinn looking down at their joined hands.

"You okay?" she asked, when Quinn had sighed and dropped her hand, on her way to her bedroom.

"Yeah," Quinn called back distractedly. But no, she wasn't okay. She had been an idiot for a very long time.

And the window was open. Fantastic.

She closed it.

It was opened again when she couldn't sleep without the draft and noise from outside. When Quinn was up, she opened her jewellery box and pulled out her the necklace that she touched every Sunday and lifted it to her throat, blindly fastening the clasp without need for light.

She slept with the necklace on all night. Quinn couldn't tell if having the cross against her chest was like a warm, comforting caress or a firm hand when it slipped around the chain and rested almost weightlessly against her throat but maybe it was all up to interpretation.

* * *

Rachel was having a bad day.

It began less than a minute into her morning shower when the hot water ran out in the building with no clear indication of when it would be fixed. The superintendent was more of a super jerk, and Rachel said that much to his face.

She had been halfway through telling this to her roommate —Kurt, who also spent most of his time at Blaine's so it didn't affect him as much, when she took her eyes off him to look at one of the cutest babies she'd ever seen in her life. Unfortunately, it had been the same time Kurt turned around.

Coffee couldn't be rubbed out of a Marc Jacobs with a napkin, apparently.

Three hours later and Kurt still wouldn't reply to her I'm sorry texts.

Rachel was walking quickly, on her way to meet a friend at the salon for their appointments when someone barged past her. "Fucking asshole!" she yelled over her shoulder.

It always made her feel better. That person would think twice about crossing her now. Yes, it was quite effective.

When it was time to pay for her hair and spa treatments, Rachel nearly laughed. If she hadn't been so outrageously pissed off, she might have. There were three dollars in her pocket as change from coffee but her wallet was in her school bag at home. A stuttered, _humiliated _apology was voiced urgently until her friend Felicia laughed behind and slid up next to Rachel at the counter, handing her card over without a word.

"The only person you need to thank is my father, so zip it," Felicia said to Rachel as soon as they were outside and she looked ready to begin a speech about when she would pay her back.

"I'm paying for your drinks all night," Rachel said stubbornly. A group of them were going out later and Rachel would make up for it then.

Rachel was digging through her purse outside her apartment building, arm raised to keep her dry-cleaning off the pavement. "Where are you?" she grumbled in annoyance when she couldn't find her keys.

Surprisingly, her scowl worsened _after _she found the missing keys. It was her own fault. Rachel stepped into a group of people without looking and was shouldered past for the second time. A couple of choice words were on the tip of her tongue but Rachel swallowed them down, deciding to let it go this time. She just wanted to get inside.

* * *

There it was, Rachel thought, admiring the way she looked in her new dress; the silver lining to her shitty at best day. It was modest, coming up to just above her knee and off one shoulder. The navy blue colour made her eyes look darker than they were and the heels she was wearing didn't pinch her toes.

They were Quinn's, left here by mistake last time she'd visited. Or maybe it was before that. It was hard to keep track. Quinn often left something of hers in Rachel's apartment. There were scrunched-up pantyhose in each shoe to pad them out. It was unfortunate that Rachel's feet were slightly smaller than Quinn's.

Rachel snapped a picture of herself by the living room window and sent it to Quinn with a promise to call her when she got back if it wasn't too late.

"If I wasn't a gay man..." Kurt was rooted to the spot for a moment. He'd given up trying to stay mad at her when she looked like that.

Rachel laughed and thanked him, eyeing his choice outfit for the night. "You look like the most dashing queer I've ever seen in my life."

"Was that a compliment, Rachel?" Kurt asked the back of her head as she turned around and told him to zip her up the rest of the way.

"Of course," she confirmed happily, carefully pulling her hair aside.

* * *

Rachel drank her first drink quickly. After Kurt had _destroyed _the zipper to her dress, she was now sitting with a pin in it to keep it from pooling around her ankles. Kurt assured her it would hold, and then laughed as an afterthought of the dress going anywhere even without the safety-pin.

She was nearing the bottom of her glass again. Rachel sucked on the straw until there was nothing left, glad that she hadn't been asked for proof of her age both times she'd ordered. Stuck between Felicia and some guys Rachel didn't know, Kurt grabbed her hand and pulled her away to the other side of the bar, slapping her fingers away when she tugged at her dress.

"Will you stop that? It's not going anywhere tonight unless someone rips it off."

Quinn's face flashed through her head and Rachel hardened a stare. "Please." Felicia's drink was topped up so Rachel glanced around the busy bar. "Where's Blaine? I want to dance."

"He's around here somewhere. Want me to go find him?"

"No," Rachel said. She handed him some money. "I'll go. If I'm not back in twenty minutes, order me whatever you think you'll pass for."

Rachel politely squeezed her way through the crowded bar area and glared when she was thrown forward a step by a downright rude jolt to the shoulder. She turned around but couldn't see the surely-guilty party.

"Fucking asshole!" she yelled anyway. It didn't carry over the music too well.

Blaine laughed when Rachel told him how much she loved him. He nodded appreciatively and adjusted his arm around her waist to have a tighter hold. "Go easy. That's a double, Rachel," he said, watching her gulp down what was supposed to be a ladylike sip of gin.

"Do you think I'm cursed?" Rachel asked. "I think I've been cursed."

"Yes," Blaine said. "With so much beauty and talent that I am in awe every time I see you."

Rachel touched his cheek. "Aw!"

"You know, I think of you as my little-big sister."

Rachel's smile dropped abruptly. She shoved his face away playfully. "Oh."

Blaine laughed and caught her hand to give it a kiss but Rachel huffed and span around. A woman apologised for bumping into her but it wasn't appreciated.

"The next person who slams into me, I will take outside!" Rachel exclaimed.

Blaine and the other woman looked taken aback.

"Rachel," Blaine said, his tone conveying his surprise.

"All people have done today is run into me," she complained. "And the amount of things that have gone wrong today... it would take less time to tell you what went right."

"Forget it. You're at a party, you look amazing, and everyone who matters here adores you. Have some fun."

Rachel looked down at her dress uncertainly. "I do?" she asked, milking the moment for all it was worth. She needed any kind of boost after her day. Of course she looked good; she'd chosen the dress.

"Stunning. Now get out there and find someone you really want to dance with."

Blaine's efforts to make Rachel feel better worked well. For the next thirty minutes she was talking and debating female music legends with some friends of Kurt's —civilly, of course. Then, walking in with a group of his friends was Timothy Slater. Rachel cringed and excused herself as soon as he spotted her.

"You okay, Rach?" Kurt asked worriedly.

"Fine!" she called back. "Just need to scratch my eyes out."

If she thought getting to the restroom was a challenge, it was nothing compared to what Rachel had to do to get inside. By the time she'd elbowed —and been elbowed in return—her way through, the urge to pee had mostly gone but she remained in place. It was better than going back out there so soon. Rachel tried to ignore the amount of times another woman's body had brushed or pressed against the back of hers while waiting in the queue. It was indecent, really, but frankly irritating when there was only body she wanted against hers and it certainly wasn't Miss 34 C's behind.

Two stalls were finally free and Rachel sent up her silent thanks to God.

There was a heated cry of protest the second before someone shouldered past Rachel and disappeared into the stall next to hers.

She didn't make it the rest of the way. She stood rooted to the spot for several seconds, her blood pressure shooting through the roof. That was it.

Rachel's closed fist thumped off the stall door next to hers. "Outside, now!"

She knew she was small but this was ridiculous. It was only ever an occasional bump to the shoulder in the past. She wasn't cursed, people were just categorical assholes. It took a fraction of the time to get out of the restroom and Rachel was so furious that she didn't even think about where Timothy was and if he planned on speaking to her.

The breath of fresh air that Rachel took outside failed to calm her down.

"Fucking asshole," she muttered, hands firmly planted on her hips. Rachel flinched when she felt warm lips against her ear. This wasn't the brawl she'd prepared for!

"What did you call me?"

Quinn was smiling widely; thoroughly amused with Rachel's potty mouth when Rachel gasped and turned around so quickly that she had to steady her.

"Hello," Quinn greeted, teasingly formal.

"Quinn?" Rachel practically threw herself at Quinn, leaping into her arms. It was highly likely that she'd never hugged her so tight. "Oh, my God," she laughed. "What are you doing here?"

Quinn had been waiting for this since 9p.m. yesterday when Kurt and Blaine met her at Grand Central and took her back to Blaine's apartment. Her arms were wrapped around Rachel in a secure hold, not as tight as she was being squeezed, letting her hands move over Rachel's back instead. Quinn's eyes had closed at some point.

Rachel's voice went quiet and said, "I missed you."

"No, you didn't."

"I did."

"I missed you too." Quinn pulled away slowly, looking a little smug. "Especially since you've been swearing at me all day."

"That was you?" Rachel shrieked. "Every single time?"

Quinn nodded. "I'm surprised you didn't hear me laughing."

"I can't believe you would do that to me."

"I've done worse."

The first thing Rachel thought of was hangovers she had suffered since college. High school didn't enter her mind at all. Quinn was an entirely different person these days.

"When do you go back?"

"Tomorrow."

Rachel was nearly disappointed until she remembered that Quinn would be returning in just a few days. "Besides stalking me, where have you been all day?"

"Kurt and Blaine have been hiding me since last night," Quinn confessed. "Kurt showed me some of your 'I'm sorry' texts this morning," she smiled. "I would have forgiven you."

Rachel's mouth hung open. "Since last night?" Her hand held Quinn's tightly as they made their way back inside to find their so-called friends. She would kill them both. And then hug Quinn again.

* * *

It had killed Quinn, in a good way, being so close to Rachel today, keeping her face hidden every time she was close enough to be spotted. Rachel had visited her a day early once and she wanted to return the favour. She missed being around her.

Rachel didn't let go of Quinn's hand for an hour.

The first time she did, it was to actually use the restroom this time.

"You okay?" Blaine mouthed when he was ordering him and Kurt another drink. It was a good thing Felicia's rich father and the owner of the bar were cousins. Despite that, there were times when Kurt was still carded. Blaine always had to laugh at that.

Quinn nodded, comfortable on the couch she and Rachel had managed to squeeze onto. She was swallowing the first sip of her second drink when someone slid in next to her.

"That was fast."

"I don't like to leave beautiful women alone too long."

Quinn's head turned sharply at the voice. Rachel had told her Timothy was there but she hadn't had the displeasure of his company until now. She hadn't seen him since before he and Rachel slept together.

"Scared they won't come back?"

Timothy smiled and held out his hand. "I'm Tim."

Quinn stared at it. She imagined it roaming over Rachel's body. "I know who you are."

He wasn't put off when Quinn didn't take his hand. Tim lowered it and let his eyes trail up and down her body. She was flawless. "Famous already, am I?"Quinn didn't answer that. "We can't have met before. I'd remember you."

"It was a long time ago."

"No." Tim smiled. "You're going to have to refresh my memory."

Quinn had a small, confident smile of her own now. "I don't have to do anything."

"You're being cold," Tim inferred cleverly. "I must have done something to offend you. Did we ever...hook up? I never usually forget a —"

Hilarious.

"No."

Tim wasn't fully convinced but didn't push it. He was an arrogant bastard a lot of the time and he couldn't understand Quinn's attitude with him. His hand was placed against her knee. "Well, whatever I did, I'm sorry. Truly. Let me buy you another drink."

Quinn was staring at his hand on her knee. "Don't touch me," she said, pushing it away from her. It made her skin crawl.

"I think we've gotten off on the wrong foot. Let's start again. Okay? I'm Tim," he said. "And you are clearly an actress or a model. You're stunning."

She tried to keep it in, really. What happened with him and Rachel was a long time ago. "You're a pig."

"Excuse me?"

"The way you treat women is disgusting."

Tim sighed. Since when was it a crime to tell a woman she was beautiful? "What's this about?"

What the hell had Rachel been thinking, Quinn wondered. How desperate could she have been to jump into bed with him?

Blaine appeared on the other side of the table. "Everything okay here, Quinn?"

She nodded. "He was just leaving."

Tim looked at Blaine with disdain. "We're fine. Go ahead and find the hole you crawled out of," he said, "or your boyfriend. Same thing."

"I think you should leave," Blaine said.

"Wait a second," Tim said, eyes sparkling in recognition as he faced Quinn. "You're the friend! What's her name? I only remembered because of the gays. Rachel... something. Berry. Rachel Berry."

Quinn hated the sound of Rachel's name coming from his mouth. If looks could kill. Tim grasped her wrist when she made the move to get up.

Blaine didn't waste a second starting forward in Quinn's defence but she held her hand out to stop him. It was okay. For now.

Tim leaned in close, lips brushing Quinn's ear. "You're the _friend_, aren't you? Everyone knows about you these days; the rumoured girlfriend." He smiled at Quinn's silence. This was why she wasn't tripping over herself to talk to him. She probably wanted to kill him. "Rachel's good, did you know that? The sounds she makes, the way she moves... Did you want the detailed report or should we just swap stories?"

Quinn's fingers stung when her hand slapped off Tim's face. She threw what was left of her drink in his face and accepted Blaine's proffered hand to lead her away.

"You finished your drink? Have I been that..." Rachel frowned when she noticed Quinn's glare and the way Blaine was rubbing his hand over her back, speaking too quietly for Rachel to hear over the music. She watched Quinn nod, taking in what he was saying to her.

As soon as he noticed Rachel, Blaine stepped out of the way for her to take his place. "I'm going to find Kurt. We'll walk you home."

Rachel's hand was on Quinn's arm. "Quinn? Are you okay?"

"How could you sleep with him?"

"What?"

"He's disgusting, Rachel," Quinn said. Her softer voice did nothing to reduce the deep-set frown on her face.

Rachel was a moment away from asking Quinn how many drinks she'd downed while she was in the restroom when she remembered Timothy. It was him that Quinn was still glaring at. Rachel turned around to see him sitting on the sofa they'd been occupying, brows shooting up high when she saw his red cheek and the way he was still wiping what looked suspiciously like Quinn's strawberry daiquiri from his face.

"What happened?" Rachel's eyes hardened. Being drunk, her voice came out slightly hysterical. "Did he try to—"

"Wait," Quinn protested when Rachel abruptly span on her heels and set off towards Tim. She had to hurry forward a couple of steps, catching Rachel around the wrist. Quinn slid her hand down until she was holding Rachel's, lacing their fingers together when her eyes met Tim's. "He's not worth it."

Kurt's drink splashed into Tim's face before they left.

Kurt wasn't an idiot. He'd had his suspicions about Quinn and Rachel for a long time. Blaine had just confirmed what he already knew. He couldn't wait until his friends figured it out and acted on their feelings. Going on double dates would be so much better when he had something to tease them about.

The air outside helped to ground Quinn again.

"You're not mad, are you?" Rachel asked worriedly after a while.

"Not at you." Quinn stopped walking when Rachel turned in to her and flung one arm around her neck.

"He's such a jerk and it makes my skin crawl when I think of him being anywhere near me," Rachel mumbled into Quinn's neck. "Can I go back in there and slap him for upsetting you?"Quinn nodded, already knowing the reaction she would get, and loosened her hold of Rachel's hand. Rachel gripped back tightly. "The next time I see him."

It would be so much easier if Quinn's hand could stay glued to hers.

"Don't let that weasel ruin your night," Kurt said, him and Blaine now in front of them.

He wouldn't. Quinn wouldn't let him.

* * *

The mood was significantly lighter by the time they got back to Kurt and Rachel's apartment. Rachel hadn't let go of Quinn once, more than content to walk the streets of New York with Quinn's hand in hers.

Through mutual agreement, Kurt and Blaine bid them goodnight as soon as they were safely through the doors to the apartment building. Kurt thought they needed privacy. He was right.

Rachel was squinting, trying to make the key go in the hole when Quinn leaned in close to her ear. It made her smile.

"I've been dying to tell you something."

"Do tell."

"Homeless 125th?" Quinn said. "Not dead."

"Really?" Rachel grinned at the news and the successful insertion of the key. Obviously she wasn't as drunk as Kurt kept telling her she was on the way home.

"I might have been dreaming," Quinn conceded. "But I don't know... I'm not sure I could have imagined breath that bad."

Rachel laughed, pulling Quinn inside the apartment with her where Quinn's overnight case was already neatly placed against the wall, no doubt by either Kurt or Blaine. The apartment was a little messy, littered with the telltale signs of getting ready for a night out. It smelled like Rachel's perfume. It smelled like Quinn's sheets two nights a month.

Rachel couldn't resist tidying up just enough not to drive herself crazy and put her iPod on shuffle. She poured two glasses of water and stayed in the kitchen to talk to Quinn, updating her on everything she could think of, just like always, and Quinn paid attention to it all, just like always, until it was her time to give Rachel an update on what had happened in her life since the last time she was there. There were just some things that couldn't be said over the phone or on Skype.

* * *

Quinn was pulling a t-shirt over her head when Rachel knocked.

"Can I come in?"

"It's your bedroom, Rachel."

"I didn't know if you were decent," she said. "Will you help me? Kurt sabotaged my dress earlier because I ruined his sweater this morning. He said it was an accident but I doubt it." Rachel struggled to reach behind. "And I can't reach the stupid pin he put in it so I can take it off."

Quinn had to smile at Rachel's suspicion.

"There's no pin here," Quinn said when she'd looked three times.

"Well, he put one in," Rachel assured. "Maybe it's hidden."

"How would it be hidden?" Quinn felt underneath the dress anyway, the backs of her fingers moving over Rachel's back as she felt for a rogue pin. "Pins don't move. That's the whole point. It must have fallen out."

"It was probably you," Rachel accused. "When you kept bulldozing into me."

"Want me to do it again?" Quinn threatened. Her voice was low in Rachel's ear, making her smile.

Yes, she would like that very much.

Rachel's verbal answer wasn't quite as forward. "I can't stay in this."

"Pull it over your head."

"I tried that. It just gets stuck."

"Then I hope you're comfortable sleeping in a dress."

"Quinn!" Rachel pouted. "Help me."

"I already tried. I failed."

"You'll have to tear it off." She froze. Was Kurt psychic too?

Quinn looked dangerously close to embarrassment. "You're kidding."

"I don't see any other way," Rachel shrugged dramatically. "I can't sleep in this."

"How much did that cost?" Quinn asked. "Do you really want me to rip it to shreds?"

Rachel's eyes rolled. "Hardly. Be gentle, okay? I'm sure I'll be able to fix it up."

Quinn lifted a doubtful brow. Rachel meant to say that _she _would be the one to fix it up. Quinn was the only one out of the two who knew how to use a sewing machine. Repositioning herself behind Rachel, adrenaline surged through her veins. She licked her lips, lifting her hands to each side of where the zipper should be.

God, if the rest of glee club could see them now. If her _mother _could see them now.

When the fabric tore some effort later, Quinn looked down at Rachel's back. She could lean down if she wanted to; drag her mouth down it, her fingers. She could do a lot of things. The only thing she did do was gently stroke her thumb over a soft patch of skin.

Rachel's thanks was quiet, and Quinn put some distance between them and got into bed. Rachel didn't need much privacy to change, choosing to undress in the soft light of her bedroom instead of going back out to the living room. It was silly now. Plus no-one should be embarrassed about their body and she certainly wasn't embarrassed about hers.

It was so different for Quinn now, waiting for Rachel to climb into bed next to her.

"Thank you for being here, Quinn," Rachel was finally changed and under the covers. "All I've needed all day is a hug," she said, turning over into Quinn's arms. It started out as an awkward-looking but absolutely comfortable embrace. Rachel nearly melted into her. She would have fallen asleep like that, with Quinn's arms around her, if she hadn't have heard how hard Quinn's heart was beating.

If Rachel thought she was comfortable before, it was nothing compared to how she felt when she pushed her leg between Quinn's.

Quinn was left with the near-impossible task of keeping her chest from heaving. Rachel must be able to feel and hear how it was affecting her.

"I missed you," Rachel said softly. She looked up, reaching to touch Quinn's face. "I always miss you."

There had been so many years when Rachel Berry had been indescribably passionate about everything in life but very lonely. She could hardly remember what being lonely felt like anymore.

Having Rachel so close made Quinn think about Timothy. Her eyes had closed, forehead contorted as she tried to force thoughts of what he and Rachel had done on that bed away, and what her mother would say if she told her she'd had to force them away in the first place.

Quinn turned her head until it met Rachel's. "Me too."

Quinn's hand slipped under Rachel's top, stroking slow, pointless shapes onto her bare skin. The shapes stopped when Quinn couldn't concentrate on them anymore. Her hand moved over Rachel's back wherever it wanted to. Quinn just wanted to feel.

She knew when Rachel's body began to react, felt her breathing deepen. It was impossible not to feel every painstakingly slow inch of Rachel's hand down her body until it slipped under her top.

Quinn's hand stilled momentarily when Rachel's travelled over her skin, and when Rachel would touch her just so, with the perfect amount of pressure and impatient curiosity, she would lightly rake her nails over each curve of her back in return.

The soft, barely-there moan was picked up by Rachel's ears effortlessly.

Quinn's skin was so different, so much _softer_than Rachel had felt before. She turned towards her neck and slid her hand higher, resting just beneath Quinn's breasts.

It wasn't like Rachel would have ever had the self-restraint to resist.

Quinn's lips parted at the sensation of Rachel's mouth at her neck, pressing what had to be the most hauntingly delicate kiss over the throbbing vein there. With that touch, Rachel had kissed her way into Quinn's bloodstream and she felt it spread throughout her body. Quinn felt it like nothing before in her life.

"Rachel..."

It came out quiet but it wasn't difficult to place that tone. Rachel knew it immediately, even the first time, no reason to ask. It meant stop. It meant they hadn't both started this absolutely sober. It meant it was a mistake to happen now.

"I'm sorry," she said, but there was a part of Rachel that wasn't sorry at all.

Rachel's hand came out from underneath Quinn's top and her weight pressed Quinn down ever so slightly harder into the mattress before she moved away from her completely but never really completely, taking her body back to her side of the bed.

It was Tuesday night and Rachel and Quinn would never guess how many times they'd need it to be Tuesday night again in their lives. It would be with a crushing, bursting kind of need; conflicting, because how could a body feel like it was caving in and exploding out at the same time?

It took Quinn a frustratingly long time to persuade her body to uncoil and breathe properly again. She knew Rachel was still awake by the time their feet touched. That part of their nightly routine didn't have to change so why should they let it? The morning would come soon enough. It always did.

* * *

Quinn had woken up to have the entire bed to herself. It made sense; she had time to figure out when she was using the shower ten minutes later. Rachel was reading a script and lyrics for a second audition she was having later, sipping coffee in the living room window when Quinn emerged from the bedroom.

Rachel's hair was damp from a shower. "Morning."

"Hey."

"So, um, the super jerk has sort of redeemed himself," Rachel said. "The water is perfect if you wanted to use the shower."

Quinn nodded and put her foot on one of the noisy floorboards, creaking underneath her weight. It made her feel awkward, like the sound focused more of Rachel's attention on her, like they were really doing this awkward morning-after routine that was as foreign to her as not wanting Rachel to look at her.

"Kurt wants to know what time we're meeting him for breakfast," she said. Quinn had promised to buy him and Blaine breakfast for all their help the past couple of days.

Rachel stood up and brushed by Quinn to find her phone. She didn't need to ask if Quinn would be ready within an hour, she never took long. "I'll call him."

Kurt looked between the two of them suspiciously when they were having breakfast later. Neither Quinn nor Rachel would stop talking, only to anyone but each other. Conversations and topics were split between Quinn and Kurt and Rachel and Blaine in a way that was definitely unusual.

You could bet he would ask Rachel about it as soon as the opportunity arose. For now, he looked across the table at the picture of elegance that was Quinn Fabray at eight-thirty in the morning. She was a lucky bitch, Kurt thought. He wondered what tiny ounce of effort it had taken to look that beautiful that early in the day. When Quinn smiled at him through whatever anecdote she was telling him, Kurt smiled back. Yes, she was definitely a lucky bitch.

Rachel's head jerked to the left when Kurt asked Quinn a simple question.

"So, how long is it going to be until we see you again?"

"The weekend," Rachel answered brusquely. What an idiotic question. "She—She'll be back this weekend, like always."

Kurt's foot nudged Blaine's when Quinn and Rachel exchanged a brief but intense gaze.

"Is that right, Quinn?" he asked. "Will we see you this weekend?"

Quinn dragged her eyes away from Rachel and smiled at Kurt again, just killing him. "You will," she confirmed.

Rachel waited a few minutes for Blaine to gain his boyfriend's attention before she turned to Quinn. "We should have talked this morning," she said quietly. "We should talk."

"I'll call you later, after your audition?" Quinn offered. It was the best she could do when Rachel was looking at her like that.

Grand Central didn't feel so much like Grand Central to Rachel when she wasn't in Quinn's arms. They hadn't hugged once yet and Quinn's train would be arriving any minute. Their small talk had even made Rachel cringe. It wasn't supposed to be awkward with Quinn.

"Don't forget," Rachel said, "homeless 125th, now that he's not dead, to put something on the seat next to you. Better safe than gagging."

"I won't," Quinn said, looking at Rachel annoyingly neutral.

"Tell Jamie I said—"

"I will."

Rachel fought to swallow down the thickness in her throat. She had been foolish to hope today to go any better. The way she'd acted last night... Rachel didn't think she'd ever forgive herself. What if she'd ruined everything?

Quinn frowned gently and tried to look anywhere else the second she saw Rachel's face, expressive as never.

She was squeezing the handle to her overnight case reflexively, biting her lip in thought when Rachel dared to look at her again, overcome with the need to say anything that felt like the truth. It was torture keeping it inside.

The train came a minute early and Rachel hated the driver. Honestly, how difficult was it to keep to a proper schedule?

Large groups of people stepped onto the train while Quinn remained in place. She was going to be the last person on there, or maybe miss it altogether if she didn't hurry.

"Quinn..."

It was because everything felt heavy and she wanted to be light and Rachel's eyes were driving her crazy with their strange ability to be quiet but also scream at her that Quinn leaned forward and kissed Rachel fully on the mouth.

It was because she hadn't been able to stop thinking about doing that since long before what happened last night.

Rachel felt Quinn linger close to her when their lips separated. By the time she'd licked them —to do anything to keep this memory real and tangible in her mind, and opened her eyes, all Rachel saw was Quinn's back as she rushed on the train just before the doors closed.

* * *

It figured that the only way to silence Rachel and keep her that way was to kiss her. It figured that Quinn had had that theory a lot longer than since the day they met up again for coffee.

She had been home for almost thirty minutes and still didn't know what to do with herself. Would it be too soon to call? If she counted Rachel's second audition it would be. There was a low chance the conversation they had to have lasting less than two hours if Rachel was a participant.

Jamie wasn't even in to keep Quinn distracted. All she had was a teabag slowly darkening the boiling water in her mug. Every single one of her mother's friends would be sitting around waiting for tea to brew if they had any idea what Quinn had done today or had been doing practically since the day she met Rachel for coffee.

She left it on the table when there was a knock at the door.

It was one knock, then two, three, four. It didn't end.

Quinn flung the door open just to make it stop.

Oh, what a blessing it was not to be holding a mug with scalding water inside. She'd have no skin left on her feet. Rachel's shoulders dropped visibly when she saw Quinn.

It was Quinn's turn to be stunned into silence, just long enough for her heart to start having a ridiculous but totally understandable fit inside her chest.

"Why are you here?"

"Because you're not in New York," Rachel said simply, stepping forward to catch Quinn's lips in a desperate kiss.

It had taken Rachel a good few minutes to move after Quinn had kissed her and then _left _her standing in Grand Central like some kind of idiot in a Quinn-trance. After someone had kindly asked Rachel if she was all right, the brunette had rushed to buy a ticket for the next train heading to New Haven.

The aching softness of Rachel's mouth had Quinn slow things down. She held Rachel tightly, kissing her patiently.

Quinn shouldn't have been able to think at all, and she wasn't really, but one thought attacked her when Rachel's mouth slid over hers. It was something Rachel had said to her during one of their first one calls. If she was right and words had shapes and sounds had colours, then what Rachel had just said to Quinn was the boat and the way Quinn moaned at the first touch of Rachel's tongue was the sky.

Rachel rose up on her toes and gripped Quinn's shoulder, the back of her head; blonde hair clasped between her fingers as Quinn kissed her open mouth.

Why had they waited so long?

"You're going to miss your audition," Quinn said with eyes closed, clutching Rachel like her practical side could go to hell. She didn't want Rachel anywhere but with her.

"I'll run all the way." Rachel kissed her again, deeply, letting herself fall into everything that the moment offered. "Don't call me. Okay? Let this sink in. We'll talk this weekend."

Quinn didn't understand that running all the way meant Rachel detaching herself from her arms with one more kiss and disappearing out of her apartment as quickly as she'd appeared in it. She was frozen for a moment, until she rushed to put shoes on and grab her car keys, meeting Rachel at the bottom of the stairwell.

"I'll drive you," Quinn insisted.

The car ride to Union Station was quieter than the time they'd been fighting. Quinn's head was swimming with the past forty-eight hours and Rachel was, frankly, unsure how to french Quinn and not have the car flip, so she sat with her hands on her lap and stared straight ahead at the road.

When they got there, Rachel turned in her seat and kissed Quinn like she was heading off for war instead of New York for two days until they'd be seeing each other again.

"You can't come in," Rachel voice was tinged with reluctance. "I won't be able to leave if I see you standing there."

Quinn's protest didn't make it further than the tip of her tongue when Rachel kissed her neck.

"Be good," Rachel said quietly. "I really mean it this time." She decided to leave with a happy, excited laugh at the look Quinn gave her instead of another kiss. One would only lead into two, and so on.

* * *

Rachel won her role.

She said it had been a piece of cake but that was a lie. It was always a lie. New Directions had stars other than herself but NYADA was a galaxy and everyone else shone just as brightly as her. Winning when she put _everything _into it always felt indescribable. Everything felt better now. Life was better.

Quinn was second to only Kurt to find out. Rachel only regretted that she had to tell her via text message. Quinn's was reading it and thinking the worst instead of it just being Rachel being Rachel, but it was hardly her fault when the message started out, _Quinn, I have something huge to share with you and it is with deep regret that I text you this instead of saying it to your face like we both deserve._

After Quinn had complained about the almost heart-attack she told Rachel how proud she was of her and they figured out a plan for when they'd next see each other.

Kurt was throwing Rachel a celebratory party like he did for any roles, however small, he or Rachel won, and Quinn was to be there come hell or high water. As soon as they'd arrive back at the apartment they would go into Rachel's bedroom or the bathroom, wherever was quietest, and discuss things calmly and rationally like the adults they were now.

The party was still in full swing when Rachel returned back to the apartment.

Kurt smirked when he them both. They were painfully obvious, lingering close together like that. He wasn't the only one who noticed. Everyone in the apartment saw.

Toasts had been raised and speeches given before Quinn arrived —Rachel was as sober as could be, wanting to wait for Quinn to join her— and so the most important thing to do was talk. Rationally. Like adults.

Rachel's back pressed against the wall and she groaned, searching out Quinn's mouth in the darkness of her bedroom. This was all either of them had thought about for days. Quinn thought it had been worse for her. How were they on the same playing field when Rachel had taken an almost two-hour each way train journey just to kiss her?

It was so cute, so lovely, and Quinn took her time to kiss Rachel like she was something precious, like she was her closest friend who made every heavy feeling inside of her settle and had been trying to do so since high school. Rachel decided very quickly that she liked when Quinn kissed her like that, but when the time came that Quinn's mouth opened against hers, losing some of her restraint, well, she lost some of hers too.

When she wasn't holding Quinn's head, Rachel was sort of hugging her against her, needing her to be deeper inside her mouth and further against her body. Quinn moved her right hand up until it curved over Rachel's shoulder, pressing in closer. She kissed her firmly and slanted her head again until it was warm and wet and she could hear Rachel's moans in her ears.

It was no surprise that with Quinn pinning her to the wall, mouths fused, that Rachel's body heated up quickly. It was almost a relief a few minutes later when Quinn broke their kiss, hands now holding Rachel's head as she fought to catch her breath. It was too soon to be pulling at clothes.

Rachel swallowed thickly, a slow, smug smile spreading over her face. "That was..."

"I don't want you to do that with anyone else."

"I have no desire to—"

Quinn switched the light on beside Rachel. "But I don't want to stop being your best friend. That's what you always call me, and it's important. I don't say it enough but it's what you are to me too, above everything else. That can't change. I don't want it to."

Rachel was serious now. Her head shook. "I don't want that to change either."

"It's the foundation," Quinn said. "Without that, it's..."

"It won't change."

"It can't."

Rachel sealed it with a kiss, soft and brief. "I'm sorry about the other night, if it came out of nowhere for you. You know, I was so glad to see you and then you were holding me, and you felt so good... I couldn't stop—"

"It didn't." A smile replaced the seriousness. "I mean, you drop hints like pianos."

"I do not."

"If anything, I should be the one apologising to you. I didn't mean to just... plant one on you like that the other day. It should have been dinner or a show and Central Park and a nice dress before we... You got a casual Cathy and—"

Rachel chuckled. "Quinn, please, it was perfect. And just so we're clear, I don't want you to be planting anything on anyone else either."

Quinn chewed her bottom lip. "This can be slow? I need it to be, and I need you to be patient with me because you know what I'm like and this is a lot for me all at once."

"I need slow too. And you'll need double the amount of patience for me," Rachel stated without a hint of doubt. "But I promise, anything you give me will always be returned. Okay?"

Quinn nodded.

"And we don't need to label anything right away," Rachel added. "I... this is new to me too. I have two gay dads so, okay, our upbringings are totally polar opposites but I get it. And there was _Finn_in high school and how often you and I actually clashed, which was—"

"I'm not the person I was for most of high school, Rachel." Quinn frowned. "At one point or another, I was horrible to everyone."

"That's what I was saying," Rachel said softly. "We're both different now. I don't need a leading man to give me that feeling of self-worth that I did back then. I'm not saying I need a leading lady either, even though we both know you're going to explode as soon as you book your first professional job. I'm just saying that all I need is what we have now. Just us, you know? Slowly evolving..."

Quinn began to smile. "Okay."

"As much as I don't want to, we should continue this later and show our faces out there." Rachel kissed her quickly, flashing a bright smile of her own. "And for future reference, I would prefer a show before a romantic stroll around the city, or any kind of stroll you're ready for."

When they were in bed four hours later, Quinn smiled at Rachel's question and leaned in for a long, unhurried kiss. Wanting to take things slow didn't mean she wanted them to go backwards.

Blaine was successful in keeping Kurt from teasing them for the time being. They only saw Quinn and Rachel for a quick dinner on Saturday night but it was obvious something had progressed between them because he caught a faint blush on Quinn's face on two different occasions that Rachel looked up and smiled at her.


	3. three

A month passed before anyone knew it.

"How are your classes, sweetie? Are you learning anything?"

Quinn had been studying in the library when her phone rang on Thursday evening. She exhaled deeply when she heard the ice clinking in her mother's glass. "They're good."

"You're so lucky to be there."

Quinn knew how fortunate she was to attend Yale. The way the entire experience had shaped the person she was now would never be lost on her. "I know. I can't imagine going to college anywhere else."

"You're doing so well for yourself," Judy commented proudly. "I only wish you'd put some more effort into finding a church that you liked. Your life could be so much fuller if you let it."

Her mother's voice repeated inside her head and Quinn kept her voice quiet because she didn't want to direct any unwanted attention to herself. "My life is full, mom."

"Oh, you know what I mean."

"Yes, I do. I can tell you right now that my life is fuller than it's ever been. I'm happy, with myself and my friends and my life. I love being anywhere that isn't that stupid town. I can be whoever I want to be here and nobody cares. They have better things to talk about than each other."

Well, most of the time.

Judy's ice clinked again. "You're not turning into one of those pot heads, are you? I remember that silly little phase in your senior year of high school."

"No," Quinn gritted out.

"Did you hear about your sister?"

"What about her?"

"Well, I just might be a grandmother someday soon."

Quinn didn't take that personally, nor the fact that her sister hadn't at least e-mailed her to let her know. They weren't close but trying to add another member to that family needed lots of time to adjust to. Perhaps Judy had the right idea with that drink. "That's..."

"It's wonderful. Isn't it wonderful?"

"Yeah," Quinn agreed flatly. It was the best news she'd heard all fucking day.

"You know, there's no reason you wouldn't catch up quickly if you'd meet someone and get serious," Judy said. "You shouldn't be so shy, Quinnie. You could have any man you want."

It was always a competition. Always had been and always would be.

"Do you remember Beth?" Quinn asked bitingly. She glanced around and lowered her voice. "She was my baby. I don't need or want another one any time soon."

"Of course I remember her. I'm sorry, I—"

"Do you think I'd throw away Yale because of a guy? Because of anyone?"

"I didn't mean it that way." Judy's voice was calm the way only a gin and tonic made it. "You've always done things at your own pace, honey. I know that."

"And I will continue to."

Judy was quiet for a moment. She didn't even take another sip of her drink. "You've never spoken to me like this."

"I'm sorry," Quinn apologised softly, disappointed in herself that she let her mother get to her that way. She could usually control herself better than that. "But I'm not a school girl anymore. There are no flyers around here for a Chastity Ball."

"But there are gentlemen there."

Quinn didn't know if that was a question. "Yeah, of course."

"Then why aren't you with one of them?" Quinn's silence was suddenly like a knife to the gut. Judy's face fell for the briefest second until she finished her drink. "Listen to me," she choked out a laugh. "You have plenty of time for all of that. Okay? You just carry on the way you have been. Make me proud."

Quinn's heart was still pounding when their call ended. She wore her cross to bed again that night.

* * *

The next day, Rachel called Quinn before she went to sleep. She was in the middle of telling her about the crazy bag lady in the park when Quinn interrupted her.

"What would you say if I dropped out of Yale?"

Suffice to say, Rachel hadn't been as shocked since that one time at the train station. She turned over until she was lying against Quinn's pillow (it was officially hers now). "I—I would advise you to never, ever make a decision that huge after a bad day."

"But what if it wasn't about that? What if I really wanted to?"

Who was this person stuck for words? Rachel suddenly felt the need to fix whatever was wrong. "Look, we all have daydreams about how great it would be to be recognised by someone powerful in the biz and skip all of this, but it's not going to happen. We have to work for it and show people that we can deal with the disappointment and rejection just as much as success. It's necessary rehearsal for paparazzi, okay? And it's late. You always dream better at night."

"Will you answer the question?"

"I thought you were happy there. You always look happy." Rachel frowned. "Your mom called yesterday, didn't she? This is because of something she said."

"Rachel."

She sighed. "If you really wanted to —not that I believe for a second that you would change your mind so rashly without a heavy hand of persuasion, then I would ask you what your next move was."

Quinn's eyes were closed. "What else?"

"I would point out that you are already amazingly accomplished for such a young age and Yale was just the beginning for you," Rachel said. "Promptly followed by how many well-respected colleges are also in New York. And then you'd wake up, because you know that all I would do is give you a hug and a kiss and drag you back to Yale because I know you love it there and you have friends who adore you."

Quinn smiled faintly. "I didn't say I was going to drop out. I just wondered what you'd do if I did. Now I know."

Rachel was too relieved to scold her. "Yes, you got a hug and a kiss and I hope you learned your lesson."

"Never again."

"Hey, Quinn?"

Quinn opened her eyes, half expecting Rachel to be next to her. The space was still empty. "Yeah?"

"Why do you let your mom get to you like that?" Rachel asked. "You don't see her, and you don't talk much."

"She's my mom," Quinn answered softly. "I don't know. I just— It's not always conscious I don't think, but she has this ability to make me feel small without trying, wanting to do anything I could to make her look at me the way she'd look at..."

"Success can be measured a million different ways, Quinn. You don't have to be your sister, you just have to be you."

"Don't."

"What?"

"You can't say things like that when you're not here."

"Why not?"

"You know why."

Rachel couldn't help a small smile but she wasn't finished saying her piece. "You're old now, so I understand how easy it is for you to forget things but you can't lose sight of what's important to you just because of someone else's opinion. Okay? Even if it is your mom."

Quinn's sigh was long. "Be here," she said, closing her eyes again. "Be here when I open my eyes."

"I'm always there."

"No, really be here. I've never wished on birthday candles or a shooting star before because it's ridiculous, but you can be here if I want it bad enough. That's my wish."

"If I could travel between space—"

"You can do anything you put your mind to." Rachel had never let her down before. "Click your heels and be here."

"I'm gonna stay on the line with you until you fall asleep, okay?" Rachel said gently.

Quinn swallowed down the expected disappointment and her mind raced towards the morning she woke up and Rachel was holding her hand. She touched the cross around her neck. It was the second night in a row she was wearing it. "I'm wearing my cross."

"How does it make you feel?"

Quinn's answer was extremely honest. "I don't know. I just feel like I have to wear it sometimes."

"Maybe I shouldn't come next Friday," Rachel said carefully.

"No," Quinn said. "You should."

"I can just as easily be there on Saturday night. You can take the day to finding a church. You don't have to look in the surrounding area. Broaden your search to—"

"I said no."

"But if this is important to you..."

"Why won't anyone believe me when I say that I triedto find a church I liked?" Quinn asked. "I did try. I tried for months. It doesn't feel the same anymore."

"But you're still wearing your necklace?"

Quinn's voice went quiet. "I said it doesn't feel the same anymore, not that I don't feel anything."

"Do you want me to help you find—"

"I tried, Rachel. My mom doesn't believe me but I'd like you to."

"I do believe you," Rachel said. "You know what I think would be good for you? Going back to Lima."

"Stay away from the crazy bag lady, Rachel. Promise me."

"No, I think it would be a good experience. I think you'd find speaking to your mom a lot easier afterwards. It's like you revert back to the old Quinn when you talk to her now, right? But it's because your relationship halted and you haven't seen each other in, God, how long has it been? You need physical evidence of how much time has passed and what has or hasn't changed. It sounds like maybe your mom needs it too? You'll know how much you've grown before she's even opened the door. Talk to her like an adult. She'll appreciate you not holding back."

Quinn pictured it. Her mother's face —so much _older_ than she remembered, made her chest hurt. "What if it makes it worse?"

"Then you would have tried," Rachel said. "That's something the old Quinn stopped doing a long time ago with her."

"Will you stay with me?" Quinn breathed after a while. "Until I'm asleep."

Rachel read three chapters of one of her favourite books —Patti LuPone: A Memoir— before she disconnected their call.

* * *

Jamie could barely contain herself when she arrived home a little after seven p.m. on Friday night.

First there had been the chain across the front door preventing her from going inside until Quinn opened it, and then there had been the delay from getting to the couch to the front door and weak excuse. "Rachel lives in New York with a skinny but beautiful gay guy. Locking the door at night is habit." Jamie joined them in the living area to watch whatever movie was playing and Rachel had answered her small-talk questions but as soon as Quinn sat down the other side of her she went as quiet as a mouse.

Jamie suffered through the strange tension in the room for a full ten minutes before she made the connection. There was no denying it this time. It was most difficult not to scream or laugh. She had her bottom lip trapped until the first funny scene played out on screen, and then lost it.

Jamie's laugh was contagious and Rachel did smile at it, directing an equal amount of amusement and confusion her way. The scene hadn't been as side-tickling as Jamie made it seem. She looked beside to Quinn and the smile fell away, distracted with the way in which Quinn was looking at her.

"Don't you have a paper due Monday?" Quinn asked her roommate when she couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Don't remind me."

"This is no time to slack off," Rachel advised helpfully.

"I've been a procrastinator since I turned 13 and I've managed to land on my feet," Jamie said. "This is the part where I do anything to avoid what needs to be done." She turned to Rachel, eyes still alight with laughter. "Want to order take-out and help me rearrange the herb and spice rack?"

That was tempting. Rachel had been telling Quinn for months that it needed doing. How could they find anything if it wasn't in alphabetical order? More importantly, how was she supposed to contribute to a meal —her job was to always add the herbs and spices— when it took her an age to find the correct little pot?

"We're watching a movie," Quinn said after Rachel took too long to answer.

Rachel nodded. "Yep."

Jamie let it go. She left them alone, going to find something to drink. How long would it take for them to snap? It would be fun to find out. She wondered when the grin would be wiped off her face, though. Her jaw was beginning to ache.

"Either of you want some lemonade? My grandma still thinks I'm ten years-old and brings me a pitcher every time she visits. It gets bitterer every year, but it's okay with vodka."

"Get rid of her," Quinn said quietly, directly into Rachel's ear.

Rachel looked at a loss. "Me? She's your roommate."

"So?"

"So, how can I possibly ask her to leave her own apartment without her kicking me out first?"

A text message from Connor had Jamie bolting for the door. She'd totally forgotten. "Oh shit, yeah! Actually guys, I will get out of here. I have to tell Connor something huge!"

"Are you sure?" Rachel asked. "We have popcorn and another movie to watch."

Quinn tried her best not to glare.

"Yeah, no, this can't wait," Jamie said. "I'll probably stay at his place, so I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"Is everything okay?"

This time Quinn's glare wasn't quite as concealed.

"Perfect!"

"Okay, well I'll see you tomorrow," Rachel smiled, adorably oblivious.

Quinn was sliding the chain across the door when Rachel came up behind her. She leaned against it when it was locked twice. "When there's an unwelcome guest in the apartment, Rachel, it's not appropriate to ask them to stay."

"Jamie lives here and pays half the rent."

"She could pay all of it and she'd still be unwelcome here tonight, so, please, next time?"

Rachel nodded. "I understand."

"I get you for two nights every fortnight."

"Which states regular contact. If you take into account our calls, text messages or seeing each other via webcam, it really—"

"I don't get to be close to you like this," Quinn whispered, pushing forward to run her fingers through Rachel's hair and lean in for a kiss softer than they'd shared since the last time they said goodbye. "I don't get to not miss you unless I'm with you."

They ended up on Quinn's bed with Rachel underneath her.

She watched as Quinn leaned over her and touched her with barely the tips of her fingers, eyes crawling over the skin as she went. It was Rachel's chest, going no more than halfway down, her collarbone, the ridge of her jaw. Quinn's hand moved to Rachel's hair and gently smoothed it out. It was the way Quinn looked at her that made Rachel afraid to blink, in case she missed any second of it.

Rachel's arms went around Quinn the second their lips met.

The last time they'd been in this exact position was a month ago. As quiet as could be, they arrived back from the station and snuck through the kitchen without alerting Jamie and Connor and were falling against the mattress, kissing enough to sate them until a few hours later when they'd get to do it again.

Rachel had noticed Quinn wasn't wearing her cross then.

Now, with Quinn's hand against her jaw, Rachel let her guide their kiss to start out with. It still made her head spin. Quinn kissed her maddeningly slow and soft for what always felt a lot longer than the minutes that had passed, and when Rachel's fingers moved to grip the back of Quinn's neck, trying to deepen their kiss, that's when she felt the chain around it. That's when Rachel realised that the unfamiliar sensation tickling her throat was a cross.

She pulled away and followed the chain with her fingers until her thumb and forefinger were holding the cross up between their bodies. Rachel looked at the cross and then Quinn, whose brows were now knitted as she looked down at her. It was a mixture of lust and torture.

"You're not doing anything wrong, Quinn. You don't have to hold back because of this. Just let go," Rachel said, meaning the next sentence in every single possible way except for its obvious. "Kiss me with your eyes closed."

"I want to." Quinn's eyes were full. She wanted to let go so badly.

"But you can't if you wearing that?"

"Not yet. I'm sorry. I wish—"

"No," Rachel broke in gently. "You have nothing to be sorry for." Her hands reached for the clasp of the necklace. "Do you want me to take it off?"

Quinn nodded, lifting her hair up to make it easier for Rachel. Her body felt lighter without it on. She kissed her as soon as she heard the necklace be placed on the nightstand. It was gradual, the deep, firm crushes of her lips and tongue against Rachel's. It was gradual the way her body slowly began to react to Rachel's careful but curious, wandering hands, the hitches to Rachel's breath when she would kiss her neck or across her jaw. It made Quinn endlessly curious too, since the most they'd done in the past two visits was heavy kissing.

"Will you take this off?" Quinn asked with her hand at the hem of Rachel's top. "Is that okay?"

Rachel's back arched off the bed, pulling her top over her head, and Quinn didn't know how to stop her eyes from roaming every inch of skin so she didn't bother to attempt it from happening. The sight of it and the way Rachel shivered when Quinn's hands explored everywhere on her torso but her breasts made Quinn's eyes dark. Her body surged against Rachel's in a heated kiss, wanting to be closer to her in every way she could be.

Rachel opened her legs for Quinn to fit into, breathing harshly when Quinn's mouth opened against her neck in bites and kisses and sucks. It was killing her not to be able to touch Quinn where she wanted to, not without taking off her dress first, but it seemed to matter less when Quinn's mouth stilled against her skin, arching against her as a low moan spilled from her lips.

Rachel could feel Quinn's hand trembling, stationary on her ribs, and covered it with her own, pulling it up to cover one of her breasts. It was over the bra but enough sensation that had their stomachs tighten. Quinn panted against Rachel's neck, slowly beginning to use her hand the way Rachel had done first by squeezing and massaging, only gentler, feeling for herself this time. Rachel's breasts were soft and firm and fit her palm perfectly. When she heard Rachel groan gutturally and press up into her, Quinn urgently sought out her mouth.

She could feel herself getting wet.

When Quinn eventually ripped her mouth away from Rachel's, it was to reach for the zipper to her dress. Her hands fumbled for only a second, and then the zipper was being dragged down in haste, roughly pushing the material from her shoulders. In return, Rachel sat up and pushed into Quinn to switch their positions, keeping the dress from falling any lower.

"Quinn." Rachel dipped her head to kiss her on the lips. "Don't feel like— like if I do something, you have to. You don't."

Quinn nodded, chest heaving because Rachel had felt incredible underneath her hands and now she was on top of her when heat had began to pool low in her stomach. "I want to know how you feel when you're touching me," she said, tipping her head up to kiss the slant of Rachel's chin, working her way towards her neck. When she heard Rachel's breathing deepen again, Quinn held the back of her head. Rachel smelled almost as good as she felt. "You smell so good."

"So do you." Rachel kissed Quinn feverishly.

The dress was pulled down to Quinn's waist. Rachel's hands and lips explored Quinn's torso almost politely until Quinn grabbed her hands and covered her breasts with them, a tad less patiently as Rachel had done to her. Their eyes locked when Rachel began to move. Several minutes later, with ragged breaths and moans from underneath, Rachel's left hand travelled from Quinn's chest and down her arm and lowered her mouth to her ribs. She kissed and sucked until an area was deep red.

Quinn pulled Rachel back into a kiss, swallowing thickly before their lips met again. It felt the way drinking a strong cup of tea did; like she was swallowing feelings more than anything. She couldn't describe it any clearer than that.

* * *

"Have you fixed my dress yet?" Rachel asked. "I want to wear it soon. I found a necklace that goes perfectly."

"Which dress?"

"The one you tore off me."

Quinn met Rachel's eyes. "Oh, yeah. No, I haven't."

"Why not?"

"I haven't had time?" Quinn had had plenty of time. The dress was long back to looking perfect. She just always enjoyed Rachel's reactions whenever she did anything like this.

"You said you would do it." Rachel pointed a knife at her. "You promised me, in fact. A long time ago. And I asked you like three weeks ago and you said you were, and I do love quoting you when I know I'm right, almost finished."

Quinn forced Rachel's hand down to cut the sandwich instead of flicking crumbs at her. "But not finished."

Rachel frowned now. "You said it was your number one priority."

"I wasn't lying."

"So why isn't it ready for me?"

"Because we're not Amish and don't have to make all of our clothes? Your dress is my number one priority to fix, Rachel, because there is nothing else. I barely use that sewing machine."

Rachel picked up her sandwich and sat down at the kitchen table, pulling one of Quinn's newsletters closer to read after she'd eaten. "I didn't expect you to sit there and not move until you'd got gold, so to speak. I just thought you knew it was important to me, that's all." Rachel shrugged and pretended to flick through the Yale drama newsletter when Quinn sat down at the table next to her. "It's fine, I can wear a different one for when my dads come to visit."

"Why didn't you say so? It's hanging in the closet, ready for you to take back."

Rachel's lips slowly and reluctantly twisted into a smile. She held Quinn's face and leaned to the side, pressing a sweet kiss against her cheek. "Thank you."

Rachel found that keeping it together during their goodbyes was getting more difficult each time they were forced to. Dread rooted in the pit of her stomach and branched out through her body and every limb. She lingered closer to Quinn this time, holding her hand while Quinn wheeled her small case through the train station for her.

Quinn had told Rachel about the text analysis class she was thinking of signing up for, because the key elements that had her falling in love with performing were classics from the 40's, 50's and 60's, and compare them to more recent classics. Rachel had encouraged her but was mostly unresponsive; looking off in the other direction at God knows what.

"Rachel," Quinn said when she realised that she was crying. She squeezed her hand.

"I'm trying," Rachel responded thickly. She knew how much Quinn hated it when she got upset when one of them was leaving.

"I'll see you in two weeks." Quinn's voice was soft. They would always switch roles at some point during their visits, be the one to complain about the lack of time they feel they have and then comfort and reassure when the tables were turned. "Okay? And I'll call you tonight when I've finished at least the first chapter of that Patti LuPone book you gave me."

Rachel shook her head, signalling for Quinn to absolutely shut her mouth because she was making it worse by trying to make it better. Quinn settled for just holding her hand until it was time to go. They'd had their real goodbye kiss in Quinn's apartment, then the elevator, and finally her car, but she still leaned in for a long, soft press of her lips against Rachel's before she told her to get home in one piece and avoid homeless 125th when the time came.

Quinn was going to tell Rachel that she hated their goodbye's just as much as she did but she figured that already knowing how much Rachel was going to miss her didn't make her feel any better at all. It made her feel worse. Rachel didn't need that.

* * *

As annoying as Quinn used to find it, Rachel was right.

Underneath all the dizzying nausea there was one thing she couldn't deny the second she arrived in town. She had changed. Going home to Lima, while Rachel's idea, had been one of the most spontaneous decisions Quinn had ever made. It had been a matter of forcing herself, booking a ticket the second she felt brave enough to so she didn't have chance to change her mind. It had to be the morning after. There was no way she would be able to wait any longer. It had to be done as soon as possible.

Quinn sucked in a deep breath when she saw her old house.

It was like it had been both a million years ago and yesterday that she'd been there. It took less than a click of the fingers to conjure up some old feelings but instead of smothering her, she was able to break through them. With a nervous lick of her lips, Quinn straightened her shoulders and began the walk to the front door.

It had been an uneventful morning for Judy. She'd had no errands to run until the afternoon and tea with the girls wasn't until two-thirty, so she was filling her time with vacuuming over rugs and carpets that nobody had walked over since the last time she did the housework.

Judy had never had such a powerful reaction upon opening the door to somebody before. The breath caught in her throat and her chest ached like something had been ripped out. It was her daughter looking nothing like a child and everything like a woman standing on her doorstep after nearly two years.

Quinn saw tears spring to her mother's eyes and blinked them from her own. She didn't look as old as Quinn had feared she would but she didn't look the same either.

Judy's hand shot out to Quinn's arm, touching her to make it real. "Quinnie..."

Quinn watched her mother close up almost as soon as she'd said it. Judy's hand fell away and she blinked her tears away like they had never been there, fixing a smile on her face. She opened the door wider to let Quinn inside.

"It's nice to see you, sweetheart. This is such a lovely surprise; I can't wait to tell the girls."

It was impossible not to be a little stung by the lack of a hug. "How are you?"

"Fantastic." Judy gave Quinn the side-eyed smile as they made their way to the kitchen. "How are you? It's been a little while since you stopped by. What's the occasion?"

The house smelled exactly the same as it always had. Quinn had almost forgotten it.

"I wanted to see you," Quinn said, annoyed with herself right away. "Needed to," she amended. This was about being adult and saying things that weren't easy. It had to be from the start or she would never be able to do it.

"I'm glad you're here," Judy said. "Would you like a drink?"

It was a little after midday.

"Little early for me," Quinn declined, "but, um, I wouldn't say no to some water."

"That's all I meant, sweetie."

Quinn looked around the kitchen and noted that the only change was the clock on the wall. She wasn't sure if it was as symbolic as Rachel would no doubt tell her it was when they spoke again.

"Not much has changed." Quinn's fingers brushed against Judy's when she took the bottled water. It made her eyes shoot up to her mother's, as startlingly blue as they'd always been.

"I redecorated the entire kitchen last fall," Judy said. "I went a shade lighter. It's putnam ivory instead of monroe bisque. I think it brightened this entire space up. It was like a dungeon before."

Quinn couldn't tell the difference at all. She gave her mother a faint smile. "Looks the same."

"You never did appreciate those kinds of things," Judy smiled. "Trust me, to a trained eye..."

"It looks nice." It might not look any different but Quinn knew that it was one of the nicest houses in Lima. "My kitchen is... the weirdest colour green. My roommate said I could decorate the living area if she got full control of the kitchen. Needless to say, never again."

"You'll have to hang a lot of things on the wall. You can almost always cover up a disastrous colour scheme with a few well-placed paintings or pictures."

"Really?"

"Try it," Judy said. She just looked at Quinn for a minute. "You look so grown up. It's hard to believe how much time has passed." It wasn't. Time passed very slowly for Judy.

"I feel different. It's actually why I'm here, unannounced."

"Don't be silly. I know you're busy but you're always welcome home whenever you have the time."

Quinn put her hand on the counter, right next to Judy's. "I fly back tonight but I was hoping we could spend the afternoon together, at least? I'm starving, so we could go to lunch and then grab some coffee?"

Judy couldn't remember the last time Quinn had complained about being hungry so openly. Certainly not since her surgery. She shook her head. "No, I— would you mind if we stayed here? I can fix you anything you want. It's nice to see you in the house."

Quinn was relieved. "I'd prefer that."

Judy smiled. "Well, let me just make a quick phone call to the girls to tell them I won't be making it today."

"Oh. Wait, if you already had plans..."

"My daughter is back home for the first time since she left after graduating high school. Do you really think I'd rather sit around and drink tea across town? I want to hear all about you!"

* * *

Judy set the dining room table for them to eat at. As soon as Quinn saw how far apart they were sitting, which was no further than it had always been, she moved everything of hers up the table until she could have a conversation with her mother instead of shouting to pass the salt.

"This is amazing," Quinn said. It was her second compliment of the dish now that she was halfway through it. Judy was many things, and a good cook was one of them.

"It's just chicken."

"Good chicken."

Judy sipped the water Quinn had poured in her glass. It was strange on her palette, expecting a sharpness that only came with wine. When was the last time she'd had water with a meal? "How are your—"

"Please don't ask me how school is," Quinn said. "Don't ask about my classes or if I'm learning anything or if I've miraculously found a church. You know the answers to those questions."

"I'm interested, sweetie."

"But it's all you ever ask. Believe me, it's not that interesting. This is why I'm here." Quinn breathed steadily. "For a reality check for both of us. Ask me something real." Quinn watched her mother struggle with that.

"How was your flight?"

"Mom."

Judy swallowed another sip of water, wishing she was drinking something a little stronger. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I—"

"You don't know how to talk to me," Quinn said. "Ask me how hard it was for me to get on that plane this morning or how it felt to knock on the door and wait for you to open it."

"Quinn," Judy sighed.

"Because it was hard. Coming back here was hard."

"A little anxiety is perfectly normal, Quinn. Don't try to make this into something it's not. We're not part of one of your productions at Yale." Judy scooped some rice onto a fork. "Finish your lunch, honey. We don't want it to get cold."

This was the woman Quinn recognised.

"This is a production. Our entire relationship —and I use that term loosely— is a freak show. We have issues." Quinn laughed. "The most personal thing I've told you in years is what colour my kitchen is."

"That's not true."

"Isn't it? Can you tell me of one time I've willingly shared even a little part of myself with you?" There was silence. "You said you wanted to hear all about me... ask me something."

"Why are you doing this? We were enjoying a perfectly good lunch."

"Because a stranger calls me once a month and I hang up feeling so many things that I don't want to feel. I can't do it anymore."

Judy shook her head. "Just because we're not best friends—"

"We're not anything," Quinn said bluntly. "I'm not putting all of this on you. I know it's me too. I don't know how to talk to you, either."

"We're mother and daughter. A little miscommunication is nothing to fly across the country for."

Quinn pushed her plate away. "It took me a long time to accept that things could go wrong in my life but wouldn't define me. It took even longer to accept that not everything _had _to be perfect. What we're looking at right now is not miscommunication."

Judy warned Quinn with a single look. "I'm learning about you already. How dramatic are you these days? Honestly, sweetheart."

"I look different to you, don't I? That's what you said, that I looked grown up. I feel like myself sitting here, but when we talk on the phone... it makes me feel like a child. I need you to know that I'm not her anymore."

"I do know that."

"You don't act like it." Quinn watched Judy begin to be affected. It was what she'd been waiting for. "Did you miss me?"

Judy inhaled deeply at the question. "Of course I did!"

"Why didn't you hug me at the door?" Quinn asked softly.

"You didn't look like you wanted one."

"You shouldn't have been thinking about what I wanted. You shouldn't have thought at all. It should have been a natural reaction." Quinn felt sick now. She looked to her water glass and wished there was something stronger inside. Her stomach turned when she saw Judy doing the same thing. They were hideously alike sometimes. "Whatever our relationship has been like in the past, you never thought twice to hugging me."

"I've had a cold recently," Judy shrugged.

"Is that why you didn't call me last week?"

Judy felt exposed under Quinn's strong gaze. "Yes."

"Or was it because of what we talked about the last time you called me?"

"You told me you didn't want a baby any time soon," Judy said. "That's the most personal thing you've told me in years, not the colour of your kitchen."

"And you don't agree?"

"You choose when you have another child, Quinn. If you don't feel ready for one yet, that's not my place to convince you otherwise."

"A cold wouldn't have stopped you calling," Quinn said. It was a weak excuse and there was no way she bought it. "It was something I said."

Judy was still picking at her lunch. "It wasn't anything you said."

"Don't insult me. If you're going to act like I don't exist unless I drop in on you like this, at least have the decency to tell me why." Quinn had been a moment away from losing her temper when she noticed her mother's hand shaking. She covered it with her own. "Mom..."

Judy pulled her hand away. "You have never once called me first," she said. "You walked away and never looked back. I've called you first every single time since the month you left. It makes me feel like... well, you've had a small taste of what that feels like."

"I had to break away from this place, from everything that would have kept me from moving forward. I didn't mean for it to hurt you."

"Thank you for that," Judy said, her tone heavily laced with sarcasm.

Quinn looked at her mother's hand and breathed past the pressure in her chest. "Why won't you touch me?"

Judy studied Quinn's face. The change in her was incredible. "I know you're not the same girl you were in high school, Quinnie. If we'd have had this conversation on the phone, it might not have sunk in quite as deeply."

"Answer me."

"Do you still pray?"

Quinn sighed. "Sometimes."

"And do you wear your necklace?"

"Sometimes."

Judy folded her napkin. "Well, that's something at least. God will forgive almost anything, sweetheart. You know that." Judy chose her words carefully. "And it goes without saying that I'm happy you're here. I'll admit that this place gets a little lonely sometimes. If you'd like me to try harder to get to know you, I will. And I promise to you right now that I'll never pry when it comes to your personal life again. When you find a gentleman you're ready to settle down with, you can introduce me to him then. I don't want to know about any of the others."

Quinn felt her heart thundering inside her ribcage so wildly that it might as well have been causing internal damage. "What if I wanted you to? I mean, not now... Someday?"

Judy shook her head. "That's not necessary. All I need to know is the man you choose. The rest are so... unimportant after you marry. You'll understand that one day." While Quinn was frowning, looking at her in a way she couldn't quite read, Judy stood from her seat and took their plates. "I can't manage any more of this, so let me get rid of these and then we can get that coffee, okay, sweetie?"

The rest of the afternoon was strange but Quinn could see that progress had been made. She hadn't been expecting a miracle by all means. At one point she had reached for her cross but felt a different necklace around her neck instead. It was becoming more and more frequent to reach for it these days, especially with the changes that had happened with her and Rachel.

Judy didn't make a move to hug her, so Quinn didn't ask her to. She would have to work her way back up to that. After Quinn said goodbye at the door, she turned back.

"I missed you."

That was what broke Judy in the end. She nodded, tears pooled in her eyes. No-one had said that to her in years. "I missed you too."


	4. four

Kurt opened the door quietly, peeking outside to see if Quinn's late-night text was serious or not. It was. Quinn held her finger to her lips when he laughed and then let him lead her inside to his bedroom.

"Rachel is in the bathroom," Kurt whispered, putting her bag down. "She went to bed early because of a headache, so I don't know what kind of mood she'll be in."

"Thanks."

"She'll be like a dog chasing her own tail when she sees you, just like always, but I get her bad moods. You get the good stuff."

"I get her bad moods too," Quinn said. "I get everything." Her eyes narrowed. "And don't call her a dog."

The toilet flushed.

"Are you ready?" Kurt asked. "Do you want to fix your hair first? It's a little flat."

Quinn's head dropped to his shoulder in a sigh. "All these years later and you're still a bitch."

He smiled and put his arm around her. "You think she'll believe me?"

"Find out."

Rachel was drying her hands when she heard Kurt from the next room.

"Rachel, do you want to sleep in my bed tonight?"

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "We can't snuggle after every single nightmare, Kurt."

"Says who?"

"Me."

"Are you sure you don't want to? My room is better than yours."

"Mine is bigger!"

Kurt leaned against Quinn. "Mine is prettier!"

"Not true!" Rachel called back. "Goodnight again."

He heard Rachel open the bathroom door and switch the light off. "Quinn is in here."

Rachel chuckled on her way back to bed. "Like I'll fall for that a fourth time."

Quinn laughed quietly. "Oh, my God, you've used me to lure Rachel into your bed three times?"

"In my defence, my hair was grey in every one of those nightmares," he said. "I needed consoling and Blaine was unreachable. All we did was spoon." Kurt smiled. "Promise."

"Knock on her door and tell her it was a really bad dream," Quinn said, kicking off her shoes before she stood. "She'll let you in."

He obliged, and would have done so even without the knowledge that Rachel would buy him coffee for the rest of the week if he helped sneak Quinn inside their apartment.

Rachel was settled back underneath the covers when there was a knock at her door.

"What?"

Kurt opened the door. "It was a really bad dream."

Rachel sighed softly but didn't open her eyes. "Grey again?"

"Bald."

"Come on," Rachel said.

Quinn mouthed her thanks to Kurt and closed the door quietly.

"I think you need to see a therapist, Kurt. Your dreams are not normal." Rachel adjusted her head on the pillow when she felt the bed sink slightly next her. There was an arm around her now. "I'll have a bald spot before you do, now go to sleep and remember that I hate it when you hog the covers." It was a full minute later when Rachel frowned. "Why are you on top of the covers? Get in."

Quinn moved underneath the covers and put her arm over Rachel's back.

"Night Fred." Kurt was stroking her back so there was no way he was asleep, and so quickly, so why hadn't he replied? "Aren't you going to say 'night, Judy'?"

The bed sunk in again and Rachel felt a pair of lips against her neck in a decidedly intimate manner. Her eyes flew open when she felt the barest hint of tongue. Rachel jumped out of bed. "Kurt, what are you doing?"

"You're welcome!" Kurt screeched from his bedroom.

Rachel was going to scream. She was tired and half-asleep, all she understood was that it wasn't Kurt in her bed. Quinn didn't see much of anything for a good few seconds after the light was turned on. Momentarily blinded, she missed the horror-stricken expression on Rachel's face and the way it bypassed shock almost entirely, overtaken by the happiness.

Rachel tackled Quinn on the bed. "Oh, my God, you scared me!"

Quinn removed her arms from around her. "I'm sorry, I'll go."

Rachel laughed, holding tighter. She kissed Quinn's face and then went back to burying her head in her neck. "Why are you here?"

"Selfish reasons. Can I have a hug and a kiss?"

Rachel nearly flew backwards in the air like a woman possessed. "You dropped out of Yale?"

"What?" Quinn pulled Rachel back so she was on top of her. "No." She remembered a certain phone-call and laughed. "Oh. Sorry, no. I didn't drop out."

"God, give me two heart-attacks, why don't you?"Rachel braced her arms either side of Quinn's head. "You're still a college student?" she asked. "You're still exactly where you want to be?"

Quinn nodded. Yes, she was. After Rachel had given her a very welcoming kiss, Quinn enjoyed holding her so close.

"Why are you here, in need of hugs and kisses?"

"I got back to my apartment and I started to get changed for bed when I realised that I didn't want to sleep without you. In my spontaneity, I forgot to bring something to sleep in but, um..." Quinn felt Rachel smile against her skin.

"You're old, it's okay." Rachel kissed Quinn's neck. "Do you want to talk about anything?"

"It can wait until morning. Don't you have a headache you should be sleeping off?"

"I took something for it. You being here might be helping too."

"Do you promise not to freak out if I tell you?" Quinn asked.

"No."

"I went to see my mom."

Rachel lifted her head quickly. "What?"

"She makes me crazy," Quinn said, "and I'm glad I haven't had to be around her all the time. But she didn't call me last week. I missed her," she smiled. "It was the weirdest thing. Usually I don't... it sounds horrible, but before, half a dozen times at least, I've wanted to let it go to voicemail."

"What happened?"

"I took your advice. Things had to change, I mean, most of those calls were painful and there was a part of me that hadn't changed at all. I was stuck."

Rachel smiled. "How did it go?"

"Well, all of this happened today, so I think it's too early to tell. But she knows I'm not who I was and that we have to start working on things to even be in contact with each other. She said she'll try harder and she wasn't drunk, so I think she meant it. Even if we figure out that we're just too different, at least I know I tried. And she does usually call which is more than I can say for my dad."

"Why didn't she call last week? Did she say?"

"I think she knows something is different," Quinn said. "She wouldn't touch me and there were some serious hit-you-in-the-face hints and not wanting to know who I'm seeing unless I'm marrying some perfect guy she's dreamed up for me in her head all these years."

Guilt settled heavily over Rachel. "I'm so sorry."

Rachel's apology made Quinn feel worse, like the situation was so much more real. "I didn't expect any different."

"Sometimes all it takes is time. I've told you before but my grandma —dad's; the only one who acknowledges me as family, didn't accept him right away. It was two years before she showed up with an apology and baby steps towards rebuilding their relationship."

That's all Quinn had ever expected from Judy. Baby steps. "I'm not thinking of telling her about anything yet," Quinn said gently. "Not in so many words. I don't hide the fact that you're an important part of my life to her but I think it's better if she keeps her head buried in the sand until we at least know each other as people. I mean, I think it will be...easier." Rachel murmured her agreement. "Do you think I did the right thing? I barely thought about it. I booked my ticket last night and was boarding the plane this morning."

"I think I've never been more proud of you," Rachel said.

Quinn's hands slipped underneath Rachel's pyjama top. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I couldn't. If I'd have said it out loud, I don't think I would have made it there. And I would have begged you to come with me when it was something I needed to do by myself."

"You don't have to explain yourself. I know there's a method to your madness these days."

"No, I do," Quinn said quietly. "Because I need you and I don't want you to think that I don't."

Rachel swallowed hard and nodded. "I need you, too."

Quinn's hand gripped the back of Rachel's head, closing her eyes. "Rach, I..."

Rachel felt something rise inside of her so powerfully that she had to tighten her hold of Quinn. It was simultaneously sometimes and always that she felt an overwhelming surge of affection for her, where she was again reminded that she never, ever felt things other than intensely.

Quinn swallowed the rest of that sentence, moving to kiss Rachel instead. It was impatient from the moment it started, laced with desperation and desire. Rachel's leg slipped between Quinn's, pushing up between her legs until it was firmly nestled. Their lips and tongues met a dozen times, a hundred times, before Rachel was unsatisfied with the soft noises Quinn was making and pushed down hard. The responding moan inside her mouth was one of the best sounds Rachel had ever heard.

Quinn was gripping Rachel's hips when Rachel looked down to her, staring back up with lidded eyes. And then Quinn was moving by herself, driving her hips into Rachel's thigh while she licked a path up her neck.

Rachel could never get enough of Quinn's body when she was like this. She didn't think it would ever be enough. Her breath grew heavy with the attention at her neck after a while and then she was being pushed up, Quinn's fingers unbuttoning Rachel's pyjama top one by one.

Rachel's hand was on Quinn's shoulder, running her tongue over her lips as she tried not to be so affected by Quinn's fingers grazing each inch of exposed skin the higher she went.

"I'm not wearing a bra," Rachel said, almost in a daze, even though Quinn was already very much aware of that little fact. "I don't know if you want to stop."

Quinn did stop but it was only to pull her own top over her head before she went back to the final four buttons. Her gaze was fixed on Rachel intently the entire time, until she guided the material from her shoulders and down her arms. Quinn's arms went around Rachel and she pulled her forward until their chests met, drawing her into a kiss.

Rachel tried not to think about the growing wetness between her legs but that proved to be harder than she anticipated when she felt the first tentative graze of Quinn's lips at her breasts less than a minute later. She groaned, chest heaving as Quinn's confidence grew and kissed the full flesh under her mouth, sucking and licking wherever she went. Quinn especially liked the way Rachel reacted to the way she'd swirl her tongue around her nipple and suck. It was unrestrained and made the hair stand on the back of her neck.

Quinn pulled Rachel back down by neck and switched their positions so she could be on top. Sometimes when they were in this position Rachel would look up at her and smile, or sometimes, like right now, Rachel would look back at Quinn with such an expression of smouldering desire that it nearly shattered her every single time.

Quinn's legs were parted over Rachel's, one pressed up high between her legs, mouth over the throbbing pulse in Rachel's neck as she pushed her own hips down on Rachel's thigh. They were both moaning before long, kissing when they had the breath to.

"Quinn," Rachel moaned when Quinn's hand cupped one of her breasts, swiping her thumb over the painfully hard nipple. Quinn's response was a groan and she pulled back only to take off her own bra. When Rachel managed to open her eyes and saw what was happening, she held Quinn's legs. "If you take that off, I won't be able to stop."

"You will."

No, there was no doubt in Rachel's mind that if they took this any further it would be all the way.

"You don't want to bet on that."

Quinn's eyes closed, trying to ignore the way she wanted to grind her hips down against Rachel's until she came. Her face was flushed with the need to. She couldn't even speak properly, it came out a whisper. "What do you want to do?"

Rachel took Quinn's hands in her own and kissed both palms. "I want to continue this," she said, "just...at a time where one of my best friends can't hear us. He's out all day tomorrow."

"All day?"

Rachel nodded and Quinn sighed because her body most definitely did not want to stop what had been steadily building but she knew it was for the best. She lay down on top of Rachel and took a minute to cool down. She could feel Rachel's heart slowing back down like that.

"Can you stay that long or do you have class in the afternoon?" Rachel asked.

"I'll be here," Quinn said, eyeing Rachel's neck. "My class was cancelled."

Rachel smiled at the first and second kiss and closed her eyes with the third. By the time the fifth was pressed against her skin, this time with tongue, Rachel's eyes flew open. "Quinn."

"Hmm?"

"Can you remove your mouth from my neck?"

"I can, but I don't want to."

"I thought we were stopping."

"We are," Quinn said, now moaning softly. She kissed Rachel's neck harder.

"You're making me..."

"Making you, what?"

Rachel's eyes closed again and she lifted her leg up, pressing firmly against Quinn until she heard a sharp intake of breath. She smiled. "Feel like that."

Quinn collapsed on her side of the bed with a sigh. She didn't know how she was expected to fall asleep when she was that worked up. It wouldn't be for a while. "Can I borrow some stuff?"

Sleeping in her underwear next to Rachel in her state would be asking for trouble.

Rachel nodded, hoping that would be the last time Quinn opened her mouth for a while. Her voice was affecting her and she was supposed to be cooling off. "Take whatever you want."

"Thanks. Is it okay if I wear one of your new—"

"I said 'anything', Quinn. Anything means any item of clothing I own," she said in a rush.

"You'll be glad to know I at least remembered my toothbrush."

"Please be quiet."

Quinn turned to face Rachel with a questioning look in her eyes. "What? Why?"

Rachel's eyes widened. She turned over and put her hand over Quinn's mouth. "Shhh." It didn't take long to realise that she was still topless, and now pressing against Quinn. Rachel rolled over Quinn's body, looking around on the floor. "Where did you put my top? This is ridiculous."

Quinn jerked away from the leg in her face. "I agree," she said, grabbing Rachel's ankle and biting at her calf. "It's on the bed." Quinn laughed at her view. "Hey, Rachel?"

"What?"

"You're beautiful."

Rachel smiled, her arms holding her weight against the floor as she tried to figure out a way to get back on the bed. She was a little stuck. "Don't you have a face full of my butt?"

"Wait, this isn't your face?" Quinn had handfuls of Rachel's ass now. "One of my contacts must have slipped out."

"Quinn!" Rachel laughed, flipping over onto the floor. She snatched her pyjama top off the middle of the bed and slipped her arms back inside. "Cover up and then maybe we can work our way up to a cuddle."

Quinn gave Rachel a quick kiss on her way to the drawers.

They did work up to a cuddle. It usually happened the other way around but Quinn wanted to be in Rachel's arms tonight. She didn't really want to be anywhere else on the planet.

Quinn held the towel firmly against her body as she made her way from the bathroom to Rachel's bedroom, trying not to look as confused as she felt when she noticed the time and Kurt standing next to Rachel in the kitchen.

Rachel smiled brightly until Quinn closed the door.

As soon as the coast was clear, Rachel's smile dropped.

"What do you mean you're not going out until tonight, if at all?" she demanded.

"What I say?" Kurt said slowly.

"You can't just change plans like this. If you say you're going to be somewhere, be there."

"Okay. I'm going to be here all day."

Rachel laughed daintily and Kurt smirked over his espresso. That was, until Rachel grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. "Listen buddy, I don't appreciate your presence in this apartment and would greatly appreciate you leaving."

Kurt glanced down to the espresso that had spilled on the floor. "This is the thanks I get? Really? I help Quinn surprise you and you go and physically assault me the morning after?"

"We have plans that rely heavily on a roommate-free environment!" Rachel hissed. "Please go and don't come back until I text."

Kurt laughed loudly. "That's what this is about? Rach, sweetie, why didn't you just say that?"

"Because I am as nervous as I am excited and saying it out loud makes it better or worse, I can't tell."

"Do you want some advice?"

"How many women have you slept with, Kurt?"

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever your head tries to tell you, it's not about prior experience. It's about the moment you're in, what you're experiencing together. Think about what you like and apply it to Quinn, pay attention to the way she reacts. It's amazing what will come to you naturally, like instinct. The first time is going to be perfect whatever happens."

Rachel nodded, taking it all in. She began to smile. "You're so gay. I really don't think I could love you more."

"You'd love me more if I left right this second."

How could Rachel argue with that?

It was a good forty-five minutes later when Quinn left the bedroom, glancing around for any sign of Kurt. She smiled when she imagined how Rachel got him to leave them alone. It was probably a threat. Not that she understood how anyone could take Rachel's threats to heart. It would be like a shark being intimidated by a goldfish.

Rachel was on the computer, replying to an e-mail. Either Quinn was quieter than she thought or it was a message from her fathers, and in that case, nothing short of a nuclear war would distract Rachel's attention while she composed a reply. Whichever it was, it gave Quinn time to look at Rachel and really process what was about to happen, what she wanted to happen.

Quinn smoothed out her dress and touched her chest, right where her cross would have fallen if she was wearing it. She'd had thoughts like this a hundred times in the past couple of months. Some reason had always presented itself to stop. When she wasn't letting her body's reactions to Rachel's touch cloud her mind, Quinn could easily think of reasons to stop and tell Rachel that she just wasn't ready. It always felt right before, slowing things down before they went too far. Even now, Quinn could feel the weight of her mother and _everyone _on her shoulders. Something like that would always be ingrained in Quinn, no matter how much effort she had put into changing into the person she wanted to be, or how much she knew that what she was doing with Rachel wasn't wrong.

Even so, part of her still cared what people thought of her. After all, they were the ones to slap layers of paper to her skin with their words written on them. There was a time when Quinn thought that people's skin wrinkled because of it, like paper-mache. History was there in lumps and bumps and creases and eventually you forget how you used to look and the way you carried yourself without all that extra weight. She used to hope it would drop off her some day.

She'd always wanted to know what it felt like to be weightless.

Rachel was furiously hitting the backspace button on the keyboard. She frequently misspelled words when she was on the computer sending an e-mail or an instant message, too eager to get it all out there. Rachel was in the middle of re-typing a sentence when her hair was pulled to the side and she felt lips against her neck. She smiled.

"Give me a minute."

Quinn kissed underneath Rachel's ear. "Take your time."

Actually remembering what else she wanted to say was difficult for Rachel but she got there in the end, even if her typing slowed with every kiss. She reached up behind her and held the back of Quinn's head, lightly scratching her fingers against her scalp. Quinn kissed her neck slowly and Rachel turned her head, meeting Quinn's lips.

They kissed unhurriedly at first. When Rachel became discontented by their shallow kiss she deepened it, barely breaking away when she got up from the computer chair and pressed against Quinn, arms slinking around her neck.

Quinn held Rachel's face and anchored her body against hers, resting a hand on the curve of Rachel's hip. They stood there for a long time, kissing, hands roaming and clutching. Rachel had never been kissed the way Quinn kissed her. She tried to explain it sometimes but it was never conveyed quite right, like maybe it wasn't supposed to be, like maybe it was supposed to stay private, just between them.

Rachel shivered when Quinn's mouth dropped to her neck. Her fingers tightened against blonde hair. "Quinn," she breathed when she felt her hands under her shirt. "I want you."

What Quinn whispered next was a sound Rachel would never forget.

"I want you too." The declaration was followed by a relatively chaste kiss against Rachel's mouth that turned into two, and then three.

Rachel moaned at the feel of Quinn's tongue against hers. She pressed closer, straining to be as close as possible, but Quinn had another idea. Rachel only separated their lips to let her top be pulled over her head. Quinn's hands went up and down Rachel's back as their kiss had long lost any careful quality.

It made Rachel's head spin. It was everything and nothing at once.

Quinn was the first one to break away, looking into Rachel's eyes.

Rachel took Quinn by the hand and wordlessly led her to the bedroom. Her fingers were on the zipper to Quinn's dress when she stopped. "Are you sure?"

Quinn nodded. "Are you?"

Rachel dragged the zipper down as her answer and Quinn stepped out of her dress, drawing her back into a kiss before her hands were helping Rachel out of her skirt. By the time Quinn was on the bed, sitting on the edge while Rachel mounted her lap, Rachel's bra had already hit the floor.

Quinn's hands went to Rachel's chest, massaging gently before her mouth took over one, kissing the soft fullness. She took the hardened nipple in her mouth and circled it, sucking gently at first and applying more pressure when she heard Rachel's reaction. Quinn repeated her actions on the other breast and felt Rachel's hand tighten around her hair. Quinn's arms hooked around Rachel and tipped her backwards to have easier access.

Rachel's breath grew heavier the longer Quinn's mouth was on her breasts, hot and wet.

"Kiss me."

Quinn allowed Rachel to guide her into another kiss and then felt her bra being unfastened and discarded. When Rachel leaned back in, she remained just out of reach, sliding out from underneath her.

Rachel watched Quinn settle down at the top of the bed and crawled over to her with a smile. Quinn's legs parted and Rachel lowered herself between them, looking down at her. It was both everything and nothing to do with the way that Quinn lookedthat made Rachel feel the pressure inside; like her chest was caving in and exploding out at the same time. It was _Quinn_, everything about her, even the things that annoyed Rachel. It made Rachel sure of everything.

Quinn watched all of those things flash through Rachel's eyes and pulled her down for a kiss. They groaned, chest to chest, just kissing, feeling each other. Rachel's body felt incredible like that, and then her hips rolled downward and a moan was pulled from inside Quinn's throat.

Rachel's insides clenched and she sucked Quinn's bottom lip into her mouth, scraping her teeth over it before it was released. She kissed Quinn deeply, trailing her hand down her side, lightly scratching and rubbing across ribs and covering Quinn's breast. Rachel squeezed and cupped firmly, swiping her thumb over her nipple until Quinn moaned, opening her legs wider. Rachel moaned with Quinn when she bucked down against her.

Forehead contorted, Quinn opened her eyes and locked her gaze with Rachel when she did it again, this time harder.

"That feels good." Quinn's voice was strained and Rachel nodded furiously in response. "Don't stop."

They moved together again and Rachel dropped a kiss against Quinn's lips and then her neck. "Trust me; it's going to feel better if I do stop."

Quinn thought Rachel had turned into an idiot until she moved down her body, dragging her mouth over and exploring every inch of skin above the waist, using her hands and mouth to make Quinn twist and groan underneath her for torturously long minutes.

Now there was no doubt in Quinn's mind that Rachel needed to rework that theory. She needed _something _between her legs pushing down against her.

Rachel's lips moved over Quinn's quivering stomach and carried on lower, stopping at pale thighs.

The sound Quinn made when Rachel kissed and licked was gratifying in the way that she felt a new rush of wetness between her own legs. Quinn never swore but it was so very nearly a curse that Rachel had to smile. She slid back up Quinn's body, kissing her way to her breasts, alternating her mouth's attention back to each one.

Quinn grabbed Rachel's head as soon as it was lifted, pulling her up for a kiss. She pushed into her and moved on top.

"Do it now." Rachel closed her eyes when Quinn's lips touched her neck, gripping low on her back. This time when Quinn rocked against her, moaning long and low into her ear, Rachel's arousal spiked higher than she could ever remember.

Quinn kissed her deeply and let her hand wander down Rachel's side, stopping at her underwear. "Take them off." She moved to give Rachel space to remove and discard the last item of clothing. Using just the pads of her fingers to start with, Quinn touched Rachel again, lightly and then firmly, across her chest, down her arms and over hips. She kissed the slant of her jaw, nervousness suddenly taking hold. "I don't know what I'm doing," she whispered.

"You do."

"What if—"

"Quinn," Rachel cut in gently, reaching to hold one of her hands, "you're the only person who knows how to touch me." She held Quinn's gaze. "Just... like this, okay?"

Rachel didn't move until Quinn nodded, and then she guided Quinn's hand between her legs, both gasping softly at the sensation.

Quinn could feel her heart thundering away inside her chest, growing stronger the more she could feel —hot and so wet, and the way Rachel's body was tensing, moaning underneath her hand. She tried to pay close attention to the pace Rachel had set and what got a more heated reaction.

It was indescribable learning what caused those sorts of responses from Rachel's body; how it would twist and turn and moan right into her, almost right into her own body. She could have sworn that Rachel Berry had never been so deep inside of her too, right in the middle part of her where everything good and bad had ever settled.

Rachel's hand fell away when Quinn moved on her own accord, slowly rubbing her fingers around and over her clit and sometimes avoiding it, feeling and learning every intimate part. Rachel gripped the top of Quinn's arm, eyes shut as she moaned, lifting her hips into the hand between her legs.

Over the next ten minutes, Rachel was built up so steadily and high that she couldn't have kept still or quiet without cracking teeth.

Quinn closed her eyes and positioned her fingers at Rachel's entrance. She pushed inside through the tightness and felt herself soak at both the deep, guttural moan that Rachel emitted and the way she felt against her fingers. Quinn dropped her head down to kiss her, working her fingers in and out. Rachel tightened again, gasping and moaning when Quinn would push in deeper and harder, clawing her shoulder every time the breath caught in her throat.

The only two words Rachel could manage were names. God and Quinn were mentioned frequently.

Quinn knew when it was about to happen. The heel of her palm brushed against Rachel on her final few thrusts and Rachel's breath grew heavier and faster until she stilled and then tensed, crying out as her body shook, clenching around her fingers.

When they'd stopped moving and Rachel's breath was gradually returning to some sort of normal pattern with Quinn's fingers no longer inside of her, she stroked her hands down her back. It was the most she could do for a minute.

Quinn kissed Rachel's neck, her own heart jumping wildly as she lay against her.

They were quiet for a while, and then Rachel spoke out.

"Oh, my God." She moaned softly when she pressed her legs together. "Come here," she said quietly, turning her head to meet Quinn's lips in a slow kiss.

"How do you feel?" Quinn asked when they'd separated.

Rachel smiled, her hands beginning their journey down Quinn's body. "I feel... so good. I can't wait to show you."

Quinn drew back only to pull her underwear off and then settled over her. Her eyes were fixed on Rachel's, dark and intense. Rachel had always appreciated art and Quinn looked like a masterpiece.

She hands slid up and down Quinn's thighs that were now parted over hers, kissing her much like before to begin with and then going deeper. Underneath her, Rachel had the perfect vantage point, the position allowing her to skate her hands wherever she pleased. She dragged her hands up over Quinn's stomach and closed them over her breasts, softly squeezing and tweaking.

She kept one hand positioned at Quinn's chest and reached down with the other, sliding between her legs. Rachel moved carefully, stroking Quinn in slow, calculated circles and swipes without taking her eyes off her face, watching everything play out. Rachel knew that every sigh and low moan, every motion of her hips was Quinn's body; alive and aching because of her, just as she had felt.

Rachel kissed the underside of Quinn's jaw and the column of her throat, grazing the skin with her tongue as she worked her up, over and over.

When Rachel's stimulation was no longer enough, Quinn reached down and guided Rachel's fingers to her opening. Her back arched when those fingers pushed inside, moaning deep inside her throat. She adjusted to the sensation of someone inside her after so long and Rachel slid in and out carefully, brushing her thumb over Quinn's clit.

Quinn felt her stomach coiled tightly with the most pleasurable yet unrewarding heat and pressure and sank down harder against Rachel's fingers. They figured out a rhythm and Quinn couldn't focus on anything but the way Rachel's hand was working inside of her; making her moan so unabashedly. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, hips meeting every thrust.

"Rachel." Quinn's voice was never as strained.

The tone, accompanied with the fresh rush of wetness between Quinn's legs, made Rachel moan softly in return. Hazel eyes were shut, mouth open as she sucked in desperate breaths.

Rachel increased her efforts, captivated by the sight above her. "God, do you know how good you look right now?"

Quinn clenched even tighter. They moved together urgently until pleasure overwhelmed Quinn's entire body, bringing her to a gasping stiffness as she shuddered, moaning deeply.

Rachel put her arms around Quinn once it was over and she'd withdrawn her hand, holding her close. It was Quinn who moved first. It was when their bodies had began to cool back down, propping up on her arms to look down at Rachel with one of those lazy smiles that lit up her whole face.

Rachel couldn't wait a second longer to kiss her, careful to convey everything they'd both just said with their bodies.

Some time later, Quinn had moved from on top of Rachel and was lying against her side instead. She leaned back in for a kiss and skimmed her fingers down Rachel's side, looking at her intently. "You look like..." Quinn closed her eyes, nudging Rachel's face with her nose. Rachel was beautiful, glowing, looking both satisfied and like she wanted to guide Quinn's hand between her legs again.

Quinn thought Rachel looked like northern lights set on fire.

"Like what?" Rachel didn't get an immediate response and she was about to ask again when Quinn's eyes opened, looking at her with so much love that Rachel forgot the question in the first place, her chest catching painfully. She decided to ask a different one. "How do you feel?"

"Weightless," Quinn said quietly. "I feel weightless."

Rachel pressed her mouth to Quinn's, nothing more than light brushes of lips at first, and then one of them pushed harder, longer with each kiss until they were joined. Quinn's hand slipped around the nape of Rachel's neck and lay on her back, pulling Rachel with her who followed willingly.

Lips parted and their tongues met mutually. Small whimpers and gasps left Quinn while they kissed, Rachel's body on top of hers. Her legs moved against the sheets after a while, trying not to focus on how ready she was again. It was Rachel's turn, wasn't it?

But Rachel didn't seem to mind because she kissed her way down Quinn's neck, thinking about it for only a few seconds. Any apprehension was cancelled out by the need to hear Quinn come apart again. "Can I try something?"

Quinn nodded fervently, not really understanding Rachel but wanting to say yes anyway. She would have said yes for absolutely anything asked of her. It only dawned on Quinn when Rachel had kissed down her body, hooking an arm underneath one of her thighs.

"Oh, God," Quinn moaned, head sinking back against the pillow. "Are you sure?"

Rachel kissed the inside of Quinn's thigh. "If that's okay."

Quinn nodded with full awareness this time. "Yeah."

She inhaled sharply at the first touch of Rachel's mouth against her, breathing heavily and tensing while Rachel's lips and tongue worked between her legs, lavishing attention to every single part of her. Quinn would moan loudly, gripping the sheets or the pillow, the back of Rachel's head, her body in so much strained pleasure that her muscles would be pulled for the next day. She moaned quietly too, thigh muscles tight each time she arched her neck, rocking her hips into Rachel's mouth.

By the time Rachel sucked Quinn's clit and entered her at the same time, pushing her fingers inside as far as they would go, Quinn was out of her mind. Rachel could have sworn she practically rebounded off the bed.

Quinn's chest heaved but nothing felt like enough. She couldn't breathe hard enough, Rachel couldn't touch her deep or soft enough, and every moan —loud or whined— wasn't close to expressing how good she felt.

When she finally came, her back bowed sharply with a deep, drawn-out moan cried out, shaking violently.

Rachel didn't stop until Quinn's hips slowed their frantic pace and she could feel her body begin to unwind. When Quinn slumped back against the bed, Rachel wiped her mouth and pressed kisses to her thighs, still twitching.

Quinn felt Rachel move up and lie next to her as she regained her breath and control of her body. It was taking a long time.

"Give me a minute."

Rachel smiled. "Take your time."

Quinn laughed softly. "Shut up."

Rachel didn't feel so smug when Quinn's hand was back between her legs.

They got out of bed eventually.

Showers were taken separately because they couldn't seem to stop touching each other and another orgasm would kill them unless they had food first. Rachel had taken hers first and Quinn's eyes were closed in thought when she returned, prompting her to ask if she needed to get the smelling salts. She got a smile out of her.

After her shower, Quinn stood in front of the steamed mirror and lifted her hand to it.

It figured that the hot water was off the next morning. Rachel's phone-call to her superintendent wasn't terribly nice. Her muscles would have much preferred a hot shower instead.

Rachel was standing in Grand Central with her arms around Quinn. It was different this time. She couldn't bear for her to leave yet. It was too soon.

"Stay," she begged. "Please. We can skip everything for the next few days."

"Don't you have rehearsal?" Quinn asked.

"I'll miss it, I don't care."

"Yes, you do."

Rachel didn't counter that. "I don't want you to go."

"I don't want to go either," Quinn said. Leaving was the last thing she wanted to do.

"So, stay."

Quinn made a strangled noise, fighting not to give in to Rachel despite how badly she wanted to. She ran her fingers through Rachel's hair. "This weekend, if you're not too busy, Jamie is going to be away visiti—"

"I'll be there." Rachel frowned again after a minute, her tears starting back up. She fisted Quinn's coat, sighing deeply. "Why won't you stay?"

"Because..."

"You can't even think of a good reason."

"Because we're being mature." Quinn kissed Rachel's head. "You have to take New York by storm and I have to go back to researching my retirement centre."

"You're being ridiculous."

Quinn smiled. Her statement might make Rachel feel worse but she had to say it. "Rachel," she sighed, "however much you're going to miss me, I'll miss you more. So, do you think you can try to pull it together a little for me and give me another kiss?"

Rachel took a deep breath and pulled back, wiping her tears with Quinn's help. "I'm sorry; I'm all red and puffy now. I must look—"

Quinn kissed her quickly. "Beautiful."

Rachel smiled without warning. "You're being nice. I look—" She was cut off with another kiss.

"Perfect."

"Can I say something, or are you going to interrupt again?" Rachel brushed some of Quinn's hair away from her face. "Yesterday... it was everything I've ever wanted."

Quinn leaned down for another kiss, this time soft. "It was for me, too," she said quietly.

When Quinn's train arrived a few minutes later, Rachel saw the beginnings of tears in her eyes too. It made it harder to say goodbye but Quinn reminded her that they would see each other at the weekend and that rehearsal would keep her busy until then anyway.

It made her feel better. She knew they had it a lot better than some people but it didn't stop her from wanting to be close to Quinn, especially after the way they had been together.

"Won't Jamie kill you for this?"

Connor smiled. He was helping Quinn hang, in his opinion, an ugly painting on the kitchen wall. "Probably."

Her mother was right. The painting distracted Quinn's attention from the colour scheme. "I can't believe she was right," she said, awed. "It looks ten times better in here."

"Who?"

"My mom."

Connor didn't remember Quinn ever speaking about her mother like that, so casually. "I hate it when my mom's right."

"This is... it's a nice surprise, actually."

"But an ugly painting."

Quinn smiled. "It's better than the colour of the wall."

Connor didn't comment. He wouldn't get into all of that. Jamie and Quinn could deal with it. He'd been waiting for Jamie to get back from class for over an hour, keeping Quinn company in the process. He'd wanted to ask her something for a couple of weeks but the time never presented itself until now.

If Jamie didn't kill him for covering her beautiful kitchen walls, it would be for asking Quinn the next question without her around to gauge Quinn's mood beforehand. She knew Quinn better than he did. She would know if it was the right time to ask.

It didn't stop him from bringing it up.

"We're visiting Jamie's parents this weekend," Connor said.

Quinn thought it was cute how he got nervous every time they went to visit them. "I heard. Are you excited?"

"Very."

"You'll be fine. If her father wanted you dead, you would have been murdered three years ago when you first met."

"That's reassuring." Connor smiled. "When we're there, Jamie wants to go shopping for a dress. There's this benefit coming up and you know what she's like about finding the perfect outfit for that kind of thing. Not _that _many people we know will be there, but a few. If you wanted to come... I think it falls on a weekend Rachel will be here." Quinn looked alarmed all of a sudden but he kept his voice steady, shrugging a shoulder. "It's just a small group of people that we'll know, the rest are practically strangers. No pressure or anything. But I can get you an invite and it would be nice to be able to escape to two people who won't bore the shit out of me. I don't know if that will help you decide or not."

Quinn swallowed heavily. "I'll think about it."

Jamie breezed through the door and dropped her bag to the floor, standing there stiffly for a second. "God, am I glad to be home." She saw Connor and smiled, walking over to him. "Hey, baby." Quinn got the kiss to the cheek and Connor got a flippant, "Roomie."

It was true, Jamie was glad to be home.

She hadn't seen the painting yet.

Rachel lifted the cucumber off her eyes, careful not to touch the clay on her face. She read a text to say that Jamie had left for the weekend and glanced at the time, making an effort not to frown. It was five minutes later than expected and this time she did touch her face. The mask was dry under her fingertips.

"Kurt, I'm crusting! Hurry up in the shower!"

A minute later, wrapped up in a robe, Kurt swanned out of the bathroom with a towel on his head. His skin looked clear, cheeks red from the heat of the shower.

"Is it my fault that I forgot what hot water felt like after three days without it? It's heaven in there."

"I still say we should have our rent reduced from the amount of times this has happened."

"I'll write a letter," Kurt said, heading to his room. "Oh, and Rachel?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you, too. I'm sorry I left you to crust up."

Rachel smiled, her face feeling tight with the mask on. "Too?"

Kurt waved a hand towards the bathroom. "The mirror."

Rachel nearly broke her little toe rushing in there.

It was Quinn's neat handwriting, written big enough that it spread across most of the mirror, impossible not to see. Tears sprung to Rachel's eyes almost as quickly as the smile.

Rachel crashed her lips against Quinn's the second the door was closed.

"You're two hours early," Quinn said when they finally broke apart.

"I couldn't wait."

Evidently so, neither could Quinn. She took one more look at Rachel's eyes and was kissing her again, claiming her lips over and over. They'd gone days without it and had plenty of time to make up for.

They moved to the bedroom.

Rachel was underneath. Her hands had quickly messed up Quinn's hair the way they ran through it. "My hot water is back on," she rushed out before Quinn's mouth was back against hers. She kissed her back and tipped her head when Quinn began to kiss her way down her neck, breathing heavier. "When are you going to learn to wait around for my reaction after you do something perfect?" she asked.

"I'm sorry. You were supposed to see it the morning I left but the water—"

"No. God, Quinn, no, please don't ever apologise for it," Rachel said, her hands eager slipping under the hem of Quinn's top to feel her skin. "I've thought about saying this so many times and none of them were as unromantic as this because I think I still smell like train but I have to say it right now," she said in one breath. Rachel guided Quinn's mouth back to hers for a gentle kiss. "I love you, too." She sighed like it had been killing her to keep inside. "I love you."

Quinn looked down with a smile, brushing her lips over Rachel's but not kissing them. "You never smell like train," she murmured.

It was hardly a surprise that their clothes were shed and discarded somewhere along the way, kisses and wandering hands leading them in one direction only. It was like hypersensitivity, the friction of their writhing bodies sending pleasure searing through them.

Neither of them remembered or noticed the cross around Quinn's neck. Rachel didn't process anything that wasn't Quinn's mouth or bare skin.

Rachel was on top of her, growing more desperate for her own release every time Quinn would arch up into her and moan. She trailed her lips over Quinn's neck, moving her hips back enough to fit her hand between them.

Quinn breathed harshly and held the back of Rachel's head. That's when she felt the chain shift around her throat. It sent panic through her entire body; tensing, tears forming out of nowhere.

"Wait, wait, stop."

Rachel had been less than a second away from touching her. She pulled away to have Quinn sit up, struggling in her panicked haste to unclasp the necklace.

"Quinn." Rachel's voice was gentle, reaching to cover her hands. "Leave it on," she said.

Quinn looked more conflicted than Rachel had ever seen.

"No, I can't," Quinn said, out of panic more than anything.

"Please?"

"I don't know if I can."

"You know this isn't wrong," Rachel said, getting a nod in response. She sighed, lightly pressing her forehead to Quinn's. "I love you." Quinn nodded at that too, tears pooling beneath her now closed eyes. "I love you, and you can have both. You don't have to choose." Quinn's tears fell freely when her eyes opened again, locking with Rachel's as one of her hands fell away. "Please don't think you have to. You already have both. Okay? You have both."

Rachel was right, she _did _have both. Quinn took in enough steady breaths to ground herself and then pressed her mouth back to Rachel's, falling back to the bed with Rachel on top.

Quinn appreciated Rachel asking before her hand moved between her legs, drawing out moans and heaved breaths until she came.

When the last wave of overwhelming pleasure faded away, Quinn was seized with another desperate desire. She held Rachel's head and kissed her with a slow but heated urgency.

"I love you," Quinn breathed. "God, Rach, you have no idea how much I do."

But she was wrong there, because Rachel knew exactly how she felt. She could feel it in every single part of her body.

They hadn't long got back to the apartment after lunch and food shopping. Rachel had found out that her rehearsal on Monday afternoon had been pushed back to Tuesday morning so it wasn't a difficult to reach the decision to stay an extra day. And if she was staying an extra day, they weren't going to be leaving the house for anything short of a fire.

Jamie would be back tomorrow night and now they had food to cook without having put too much of a dent in their time alone, to just be with each other.

Rachel found the invitation for the benefit sitting on top of a pile of magazines and opened mail. The invitation was already out of the envelope and she was curious, so she picked it up. Rachel smiled when she saw what it was for.

"Are Jamie and Connor going?"

"Yeah." Quinn bit her lip as Rachel read over the rest of the invitation. There was to be an identical invitation with her name on it within the next week. "Do you... we could go, if you wanted to."

"What?"

"Connor's parents know the hosts, so we could get in through the front door. It wouldn't be crashing because he invited me. And it would be nice to get all dressed up. If it's boring, we could always just dance or drink all the free champagne and pretend everyone is really there for us." Quinn frowned. "It's not— people I know will be there but not too many. I think I could handle it as long as you're okay with it, too. It's in a month, you'll be here anyway. I mean, I would be perfect with going somewhere else or even staying in. It's not a big deal."

Rachel seemed to think it was though, because she leaned over to kiss her.

"It is a big deal. I would love to go with you."

That next night, Quinn came up behind Rachel at the stove and put her arms around her, kissing her neck. They weren't aware that Jamie had finished unpacking her bag and was watching them.

"What are you making?" Quinn asked.

"The sauce for our spaghetti," Rachel said. "And not so much making as heating up and stirring."

"Oh, you're _stirring_? Well, it smells fantastic."

"I added my secret ingredient."

"Oregano?"

Rachel's face fell. "_No_."

Quinn smiled and kissed Rachel's cheek. "I can smell it."

"On my cheek?"

"No." Quinn kissed it again. "I can go back to pretending I don't know all of your culinary secrets, if you'd like."

"Yes, I would."

"Okay, then. What's your secret ingredient?"

Jamie walked noisily through the kitchen, keeping her eyes on Rachel and Quinn the entire time.

Rachel felt Quinn breathe deeply and the arms slacken around her waist. "Jamie's not an idiot," she said softly. "She knows. She's known for a long time."

"I know," Quinn sighed.

"And she's not being weird or mean. I think we should tell her that we know she knows."

"She'll want to double-date."

"We've double-dated before, Quinn. We just didn't say it out loud."

"She's been fine..." Quinn said, trying to think of a single time that Jamie had treated her differently since she and Rachel had officially been together. There wasn't one.

"She loves you," Rachel shrugged. "This can still be slow. I'm not pushing, okay? I don't want to rush you into something you're not ready for. But some of my friends know, my dads know... I know you can do this."

Quinn decided to wait until they were all eating dinner.

Jamie had caught them up on her weekend to such an exhausting degree that Rachel's eyes shot to Quinn as soon as Jamie paused for a drink of water.

Quinn twirled her pasta. "So, how was your date on Wednesday night?"

Rachel shrugged. "Dead end. No leading male potential whatsoever. I was really disappointed because he made it seem like he had the whole package."

"You said he was 'the one.'"

"I'm sure he is, just not for me. Anyway, Kurt's setting me up on a blind date next week. He thinks it will solve all my problems."

"Good luck with that. Call me if he has a friend."

Jamie placed her glass down and dropped her fork loudly. "You're kidding me with this, right?"

Rachel reached for her water now. "No, Kurt really thinks it will help. He says I have a problem entering any kind of relationship with unrealistically high expectations and learning to go in blind so to speak will be good for me."

Jamie held her hand up, choking out a laugh. "Guys, seriously, I've had just about enough of this game."

"Don't you want Rachel to be happy?"

"Some people are apprehensive when it comes to blind dates, Quinn," Rachel said. "I'm sure she's just concerned."

"I'm concerned," Jamie confirmed. "I'm _very_concerned."

Rachel smiled at Quinn. "Jamie is just being a wonderful friend."

"I'm going to stab you both with this fork," Jamie proclaimed. She stared at Rachel. "You're lying," she said. When she saw Rachel glance to Quinn and begin to smile, Jamie groaned loudly. "You're so lying!"

"You can stop being really bad at pretending you don't know we're together anymore," Quinn said. "Come to a drama class with me."

"I knew all along."

"Of course you did."

"I did! Ever since those super gay photos you kept putting up around the place."

Rachel mentally counted them. "There are only three."

"With total lack of personal space and any other people around."

"Maybe she has a point."

"She rarely does," Quinn said.

Jamie laughed. "Oh, shit, we have to double-date! Officially this time." She saw Quinn's eyes flick to Rachel. "I mean, if you're okay with that. I know you're... private."

"It's okay with me if it's okay with you," Quinn said.

Rachel nodded. "It's perfect with me."

It was set. They'd be roped into many more of those dates in the future.

Quinn had been about baby steps for a long time now, long enough that they didn't feel much like baby steps at all anymore.

It felt like she'd been walking steadily by herself and with Rachel's patient encouragement without even knowing it.


End file.
